


Borderline

by brillinski



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Kinda, M/M, Prostitution, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Stiles is homeless
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:35:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22997791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brillinski/pseuds/brillinski
Summary: ”Oh fuckoff,” Stiles snapped at Isaac. “Thanks for the smoke.” He waved at them sarcastically before scooping up a backpack that Derek hadn’t noticed in the shadows. He slung it over his shoulder as he took off across the grass.Derek stared after him for a moment, dumbstruck.“That’s Stiles,” Isaac said, smirking as he tapped on the remainder of his cigarette to loosen the ash. “Interesting dude. Kind of a dick.” Derek snorted.***Stiles is a bit of a mess but Derek finds that he doesn't really mind.
Relationships: Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 64
Kudos: 219





	1. A Bag of Dutch

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. I've never written anything for Teen Wolf but recently I have fallen back into it sooo here goes. This chapter ends kind of abruptly but I really wanted to post and the next section still needs to be edited. (The next bit is longer also)
> 
> A piece of the dialogue was ripped from a show called the Politician, which I don't usually do but it fit so well I couldn't help myself.

It was only the second week of classes, but Derek had decided he _hated_ calc three. He’d been alright with the first two, but something about a third semester of calculus with Professor Hendricks _again_ made him want to rip his fucking hair out. It was already difficult to pay attention since it was at 4:00 PM on a Friday, and he had been distracted further by the kid sitting in front of him. 

Derek didn’t know how he could find the back of someone’s head attractive, but he couldn’t stop _staring_. The kid was a blur of motion, even sitting in class, as his fingers flew over the keyboard of his laptop. Derek could see he was coding something.

His hair was short and sticking up in all directions. He had a solid maroon flannel hung over his shoulders, but what really caught Derek’s attention was the fluidity of the movement, the way he would pause and run his hands over his head, or the way his shoulders would shake just slightly as he swiped over to IMessage and laughed at a text. It was clear that the kid was not even _trying_ to pay attention to the lecture, and he didn’t seem to be taking any notes at all. 

By the end of class Derek found that his notes were also very limited. He found himself rushing to cram his notebook into his bag so that he could exit the room at the same time as the mystery boy. The boy who was making a call as soon as the professor dismissed them, and had his phone pressed up to his ear as he left the room. _Damnit._ Derek wasn’t sure why that bothered him at all.

He didn’t have such little self-awareness that he could have deluded himself into thinking he would’ve actually struck a conversation up with the boy, but it still felt like he had lost a chance, somehow. And if Derek found himself adjusting his path back to his dorm so that he could stay within listening range of the kid, he wasn’t deluded enough to think it was out of character.

“God fucking damnit… Dude, you know I’d love to” He was saying, sounding miserable. “My car got towed yesterday and I’ve been working extra hours so I can get it back from the tow place.” And then a pause before he slid into a slightly icier tone. “Oh _fuck_ you. Do _you_ have $150 to spare?” He stopped walking, and for a moment Derek debated hanging back so he could continue to eavesdrop, but then out of nowhere the kid turned around and stared right at him.

He didn’t know why he’d been so interested in the _back_ of this kids head, when he hadn’t even seen his face yet. He couldn’t place what it was that made the kid so _magnetic._ His lips, maybe, but it was more than that. He was so caught off guard for a moment that he didn’t realize his own phone was ringing. Tearing his gaze away from the boy he pulled his phone out and stared at the name on the screen. _Jennifer_. He began moving towards the dorm, carefully avoiding the other kid's eyes as he walked past. 

“Ah shit, sorry what'd you say?” He heard the boy on the phone say as he slid by.

Derek answered his own phone a few seconds later. 

“Babe,” Jennifer started before he even got a chance to greet her. “Where the hell are you? I’ve been standing outside your door for like 10 minutes. I have to talk to you, you’ll _never guess_ what’s going on tonight.” Derek frowned. He had a feeling he could guess _exactly_ what was going on that night. 

“I literally got out of class—” He pulled his phone away from his ear to get the exact time. “Four minutes ago. I’m on my way.” 

“Alright, alright.” She breathed, sounding resigned. “I’ll see you in a sec.” Derek hung up. 

***

An hour later, Derek was lying in his bed, naked, watching Jennifer pull her jeans up her legs. She was beautiful, he _knew_ that, and he liked having sex with her, but something didn’t sit right.

“I’ve noticed, everytime we have sex, no matter what I do, you seem to really enjoy it.” He said, attempting to rip the band-aid off, throw all his cards on the table. She just looked at him, confused. “I don’t know. I feel like, maybe, sometimes you’re faking it.” She blinked at him.

“I am.” His eyes snapped to hers. 

“What? I mean— I don’t like you _pretending_.” She gave him a flat look, and then continued in a tone that one might use when trying to explain something very simple to a child.

“I know you watch porn. Your brain is wired to enjoy sex that’s presentational.”

“Okay,” He said slowly, feeling wildly uncomfortable. “But, I don’t _want_ presentational. I want authentic.” She let out a huff of air.

“I will do better at appearing more authentic from now on.” 

Derek internally groaned. He liked Jennifer, she was confident and she knew how to have fun. She didn’t get offended when he teased her, and she could dish it out just as well as she could take it. But _this_ , this was not a new problem. She was constantly putting up a front, acting like she was something she wasn’t.

“I don’t want you to _appear_ authentic, I want you to _be_ authentic.” He said, although he had already given up. She frowned.

“I don’t understand, what’s the difference?” 

“Just, nevermind. Forget it.” He said, flopping back onto the bed. She smiled at him warmly, but he didn’t return it. 

“You’ll come tonight, right?” She said a few moments later, after she was dressed and standing by the door. He twisted in the bed until he was facing her. 

“I’ll think about it.” His face was half imbedded in his pillow and his voice came out muffled. She huffed, clearly not satisfied with his answer, but she waved over her shoulder and left the room.

***

Derek didn’t want to be there. He could enjoy a good party if the mood was right, but tonight his skin was crawling. He could see Jennifer across the room, talking to some girl who he’d met a handful of times, but who’s name he couldn’t remember. The lighting was low, with flashes of color being emitted from the strobes that had been placed along the wall. The music was _pounding_ ; too loud to make conversation, but Derek guessed that was the whole point. 

He usually didn’t let himself get _drunk_ , but something about the energy in the air that night was putting him on edge and he was on his fourth drink already.

“I’m going for a boge!” Isaac screamed in his ear, miming the smoking of a cigarette in case his shout hadn’t been loud enough for Derek to decipher over the volume of the music. “Want to come?” Derek nodded. He didn’t really smoke, but tonight he was drunk and desperate to get out of the hot mass of bodies. 

Isaac led him outside. 

The backyard was crowded, but much less packed than it had been inside, and the cool night air immediately put him at ease. They pushed through the people standing on the porch and stumbled onto the grass. Isaac handed him a lit cigarette and then proceeded to light his own, taking a long drag. They smoked in companionable silence for a moment, but then Derek was distracted by movement further out in the lawn. 

As he focused on the shapes and his eyes adjusted to the darkness he could see two people were laying side by side in the grass, the slighter one half draped across the other. They were passing a cigarette, or maybe a joint, back and forth, breathing smoke into each others mouths. Suddenly, the larger frame shifted and although it was whispered Derek could hear a smooth voice. 

“We’re being watched.” With just a bit of drama, and then the girl giggled, shifting until she was sitting upright. The boy gracefully stood to his feet, stepping out of the shadows with a joint between his lips. Derek recognized him immediately as the boy he’d half stalked out of his calculus class. The boy grinned as he caught sight of them, smoke curling from his lips. 

“Isaac!” He said happily, passing the joint down to the girl without looking at her and stepping further forward. Derek noticed that the girl frowned up at him, as though she knew her time in his spotlight was over. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” Isaac grinned back at him, looking absolutely delighted. 

“I didn’t expect to see _you_ here, Stiles. Thought you were working?” Stiles smirked. 

“Yeah, I am. I mean— I _was._ Gotta go back in later.” Isaac’s eyes flickered to the girl, who was still sitting in the grass smoking, with a questioning look on his face. “Oh! Yeah, sorry. This is my friend Malia.” He turned to offer her a hand and helped her to her feet. As she stood up Derek could immediately see the effortless beauty. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, and was dressed much more casually than most of the girls he’d seen tonight. 

Derek tried to guess what their relationship was. He had just called her a friend, but the way they had been snuggled up shotgunning smoke made it clear there was something else going on between them.

Stiles plucked the joint from her hand and took a long pull. “Malia, this is Isaac and…” Stiles’ eyes finally flashed to Derek, and for a moment he looked puzzled. “You’re in my calculus class.” He said slowly. 

Derek tried not to feel too self satisfied at the fact that he had been _remembered_. He paused to drag his cigarette before responding. 

“Didn’t think you’d bothered to look up at all.” He said through the smoke. 

“Ah, but _you_ were looking.” Stiles replied, his lips twitching into a half smile that made something tighten in Derek’s stomach. He tried to think of something to say, _anything_ , but Stiles had already turned his attention away from him. He passed the tiny bit of joint left to the girl, Malia, and then turned to Isaac. 

“Got an extra one of those?” He asked, his tone still borderline flirtatious. 

Derek scowled, getting the picture that this was someone who took what he wanted, flirting his way into people's heads without much consideration for their emotions. Isaac just laughed though.

“Thought you quit?” He said, even as he passed him the cig.

Malia tapped Stiles’ arm before he got a chance to respond, and as she leaned in towards him Derek could _feel_ the shift in his demeanor. Suddenly he wasn’t smirking, and he focused all of his attention on her. 

“I’m gonna go.” She said in a low voice, clearly trying to have a private conversation despite the fact that Derek and Isaac could obviously hear. “Be careful tonight, okay?” He nodded. “And.. come back to my room later? Lydia is staying with Jackson plus—” She lowered her voice further, eyeing the other two boys warily. “It’s supposed to _thunderstorm_ tonight.” Derek blinked, trying to find meaning in her words through the thickness of his intoxication. Stiles just grinned at her though, clearly understanding perfectly. 

“Don’t worry about me.” He said, placing a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She glared at him, but didn’t push it further. 

“Nice to meet you both.” She said, not sounding completely genuine. And then she was gone. Stiles turned back to the other two boys.

“Sorry about that.” He pulled a purple lighter from his pocket and finally lit his cigarette. Derek was momentarily distracted watching the boy’s mouth wrap around it, drawing smoke through the filter. “I _did_ quit,” He said around a cloud of smoke. “For awhile. But I’m drunk and _hardly_ in a position to make good decisions.” His voice had shifted back into something low and slightly seductive, but at this point Derek couldn’t tell if Stiles was doing it on purpose. 

For a moment Isaac looked uncomfortable. 

“So.” He said, eyes flickering to where Malia had just been standing. “You still living in your car then?” And this was clearly crossing some kind of line because Stiles immediately took a step back, his eyes flashing dangerously at Isaac, before flickering over to Derek. 

For a moment it was silent. Isaac looked more concerned for Stiles' living situation than his reaction, but Stiles ignored him completely, instead looking at Derek. 

“I don’t live in my car.” He said simply, but intensely, his eyes boring into Derek’s as if he _needed him_ to believe. Derek didn’t really know what to think of that, but somehow he could tell that he was being lied to. 

“Stiles, man, you know you’re always welcome—” 

“Oh fuck _off_.” Stiles snapped at Isaac. “Thanks for the smoke.” He waved at them sarcastically before scooping up a backpack that Derek hadn’t noticed in the shadows. He slung it over his shoulder as he took off across the grass.

Derek stared after him for a moment, dumbstruck. 

“That’s Stiles.” Isaac said, smirking as he tapped on the remainder of his cigarette to loosen the ash. “Interesting dude. Kind of a dick.” Derek snorted. He wanted to inquire further, push on this idea of him living in his car, but suddenly his name was being called.

“There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Jennifer purred in his ear. “You wanna get out of here?” Derek discovered that he was _desperate_ to get out of there. Isaac threw him a sly smirk. 

“See you later, Hale.”

And later, when Derek was fucking his girlfriend and his mind kept drifting back to Stiles, he didn’t think much of it, because Isaac had said it himself; he was an interesting dude. 


	2. Them Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two. Here goes. There’s definitely some head hopping in this one and I’m not too sure how I feel about it but I’m sticking with it for now. I have midterms coming up so I probably won’t update again until after that’s over n done with.

Derek had been in the library for hours, already overwhelmed with work despite the fact that the semester had just started. His mood was sour by the time he left, and it soured further when he turned his phone off of do not disturb mode and found it immediately flooded with messages from Jennifer, demanding to know where he was. 

He was still scowling at his phone, thinking that it might be time to break things off, when he made it back to his dorm building. He was so immersed in angrily reading the texts that he ran straight into someone rushing to leave his building. 

“Fuck. I’m so—” He cut himself off when he saw who was standing in front of him. “Oh. Hey Stiles.” As the words were leaving his mouth he noticed that the kid was not in good condition. He was sporting a pretty painful looking black eye and his lip was split. “Jesus, are you okay?” Stiles glanced over his shoulder nervously, as if he was afraid he was being followed, and Derek realized that the kid had literally _run_ into him. He glanced into the building behind him but nobody was around. 

“M’fine.” He said dismissively, attempting to move around him. Derek caught his arm. 

“Hey, did this _just_ happen? Who was it?” 

“It’s _nothing._ ” Stiles snapped as he pulled his arm out of Derek’s grip. “None of your business anyway. Just—” He tried to push by again. “ _Move._ ” Derek did move, letting Stiles slip by and dart into the parking lot. Derek watched as the other boy paused and fumbled with a pack of cigarettes, smirking a little when he remembered hearing Stiles tell Isaac that he quit. 

When the boy reached his faded blue jeep he turned to lean on it and saw that Derek was still standing there, watching him. 

“Oh _really_?” He called across the parking lot, a flirtatious lilt to his voice despite the fact that he’d just bit Derek’s head off. Derek glanced around before stepping towards the boy almost unconsciously. The door to the building fell shut behind him. 

Stiles was lit up by the streetlamps lining the lot and the smoke hung in the air above him. Derek had tried so hard not to find his stupid flirting and his obvious front _charming_ , but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

Stiles smoked his cigarette, silently watching Derek as he crossed the parking lot.

“Thought you quit?” Derek said, his voice coming out gravelly. He knew it was an annoying thing to say, but he wasn’t that good at small talk on a good day and Stiles made him nervous. Stiles just grinned at him. 

“Yeah, well. I’ve had a bad day.” Derek eyed his injuries and nodded slowly. He wanted to ask again, but he bit back the urge and instead just watched Stiles attempt to blow smoke rings. After a few moments, Stiles’ silence was making Derek uneasy, so he held out his hand for the cigarette. 

“You’re doing it wrong.” He muttered, and Stiles handed over his cigarette with a little quirk of his brow. He looked genuinely impressed when Derek was able to blow three perfect rings, and for once Derek was glad that his freshman roommate had been a huge stoner. 

“Oh wow.” Stiles blinked his impossibly long eyelashes at him slowly, and Derek fought the urge to glare at him when his stomach swooped. He was definitely doing this on purpose. “That’s pretty hot, ya know.” Stiles grinned in a way that made Derek feel as though he was being made fun of, but he just rolled his eyes and took another drag before handing the cigarette back to Stiles.

Stiles gave him a piercing look, as if he wanted to ask Derek something but knew he wouldn’t like the answer. 

“So.” He finally said, flicking the cigarette butt like a pro and watching it spin through the air across the parking lot. “What can I do for you?” There was a sharpness to his voice, like it was a loaded question. Derek frowned. 

He couldn’t articulate why he was standing there with Stiles, but after a moment of silence Stiles seemed to understand that, and he took pity on him.

“Hop in?” He asked flippantly, as if it didn’t matter to him at all. Derek guessed it probably didn’t.

Stiles’ jeep was filled with books. Well— not _filled_ exactly, because it was clear when Derek sat down that this _was_ actually his home. There were blankets and pillows spread out where he’d pushed the back seats down but there were books crammed into nearly every spot they fit. 

As far as living in a car goes, it didn’t look like a bad set up. Somehow that made it worse, as if he’d figured it all out because he’d been doing it for awhile. There was a large nalgene bottle propped up behind the console, covered in stickers and positioned so that it was accessible from either the front or back, and Stiles had put a large box with outlets on it on the floor of the passenger seat, a cord twisting up and connecting it to the cigarette lighter. A laptop charger was plugged in and coiled at his feet, and Derek tensed up as Stiles leaned over to grab it. 

Stiles smirked at him as he sat back up. Neither of them spoke while Stiles reached around behind the seat to grab his laptop from his book bag so he could hook it up to the charger.

“I never caught your name.” Stiles said after a moment, his voice soft. Even though Derek was the only one in the car it took him a moment to realize he was being spoken to. He’d seen first hand that Stiles could quickly get pissed off and a little snappy, but other than that it seemed like he was constantly hiding behind a mask of allure and manipulation. This wasn’t either of those things; he genuinely sounded interested. 

“Derek.” He cleared his throat. “My name is Derek Hale.” His voice came out flat and overly formal. Stiles quirked an eyebrow.

“Well, Derek Hale, do you partake?” Stiles was sliding a joint out of his American Spirit box with long, skillful fingers, and Derek had to swallow a lump in his throat before answering. 

“Sure.” He said, because he _did_ smoke sometimes, and anyway, he was trying to find a good reason for him to be sitting here in Stiles’ car, and this seemed like an acceptable one. Stiles flashed him a grin as he lit it, the light from the flame casting shadows on his bruised face. Derek averted his eyes. 

He glanced around the car furtively, but Stiles clearly noticed because he looked a little embarrassed. 

“Alright. So I might’ve lied to you, before.” He started, passing the joint to Derek and gesturing around him. “About living in my jeep, remember? I shouldn’t have done that. I’ve been trying to work on the whole, uh, _honesty_ thing.” His tone was joking but Derek suspected there was some truth to that. Stiles shifted in his seat, slouching down until his knees pressed at the bottom of the steering wheel. He looked smaller like that, _tired._

“It’s just— it doesn’t exactly make a good first impression. Though I suppose lying doesn’t either.” He tapped the keys in his hand restlessly on the wheel, before sliding them into the ignition and turning the car on. He plugged up his phone and a song Derek recognized but couldn’t place filled the silence between them.

“Why—” Derek started to ask before immediately clamping his mouth shut. He pushed the joint back at Stiles, not making eye contact. 

“Just ask. It’s fine.” Stiles said, and despite his flat voice and his obvious annoyance, Derek couldn’t help himself. 

“ _Why_ are you living in your car? I mean— does the school know?” Stiles caught his eye and for the first time Derek realized how _close_ they were. The smoke was thickening in the small space and Stiles cracked a window before responding. 

“Nah. They’d probably be pissed. Pretty sure it’s not even _legal_ if you don’t own any land to park it on.” He shifted in his seat again, looking as though he couldn’t get comfortable. “They kicked me out of the dorms last Spring. Something about swindling their students out of money, breaking too many laws on their campus. Whatever.” He exhaled a mouthful of smoke, and there was a long stretch of silence before he spoke again. “It was paid for by my scholarship, and that’s not really transferable. I managed to get them to not call my dad about it though, which was insanely lucky.” 

It hadn’t exactly been luck, but Stiles wasn’t about to tell Derek that. The whole thing still didn’t sit right with Stiles, and when he’d begged the Campus Security guy not to call his father, he’d been propositioned in a way that sat firmly between coercion and blackmail in Stiles’ book. But as someone who exchanged goods for services in order to make a little extra money, he couldn’t bring himself to say no, knowing it would absolutely destroy his dad. 

Now, of course, he had to make more than _a little extra money_ , because being kicked out of his dorm had meant being kicked off his meal plan, and he wasn’t about to tell his dad why he suddenly needed a fucking allowance. When he looked up Derek was staring at him, and he was immediately overly conscious of everything he had just shared. 

“Ah. Fuck. Don’t know why I just told you all that.” He mumbled, angry at himself. Because Derek was fucking hot and he had _asked_ , and apparently that was all it took for Stiles to let down the carefully crafted walls that were holding him up as much as they were keeping other people out. 

“Swindling students out of money?” Derek looked amused but Stiles shook his head, he wasn’t about to go there. 

The joint was almost gone, and Derek tried to think of something else to say before their time was up. Some way to push without actually _pushing_ , but Stiles clearly felt as though he’d let Derek carry this conversation in an unsavory direction and Derek could tell he was done talking about it.

“What’re you _really_ doing here Derek?” Stiles suddenly purred, leaning towards him slightly and throwing an arm up behind his seat. Somehow, Derek had almost forgotten the other boys black eye, but as he leaned in it was glaringly obvious. It made Stiles look reckless, dangerous. 

In the yellow glow of the car Stiles looked undeniably sexy. His eyes were glowing amber, and his eyelashes swept shadows down his cheeks as he blinked. His lips were parted just slightly in a way that made Derek think _obscene_ thoughts. He’d never even been with a guy, but apparently that didn’t matter and Stiles _knew what he was fucking doing_ ; he had to. 

Derek was forced to tear his eyes away from the boy sitting next to him when his phone rang loudly from his pocket. Cursing, he pulled it out. 

_Jennifer_. 

“The girlfriend?” Stiles was smirking again, and Derek seriously wanted to punch him. Or kiss him. Maybe both. He grunted by way of response, staring at the screen and debating whether or not to ignore her. “You should answer.” Stiles’ voice was guarded all of a sudden. Derek couldn’t keep up. 

“Right. Well. Thanks for the weed.” Derek said, trying not to sound too disappointed by his dismissal. Stiles barely spared him a glance, already turning his attention to his phone to change the song.

Derek slid out of the passenger seat, answering his phone as Stiles started the ignition. The jeep whipped out of the parking lot before he’d even made it to the door. 

  
***  
  


When Stiles got to college he hadn’t expected people to _want_ him as much as they seemed to. He’d been just as loud and annoying as he always was, but somehow people saw it as confident rather than manic and obnoxious. And yeah, he’d grown up a bit. He _knew_ he looked good, at least some of the time. 

At a party a month into freshman year some junior on the wrestling team had offered Stiles $200 to sleep with him, and even though Stiles had said no, he’d been tempted.

It had been Lydia’s idea initially, and maybe she had been joking, but she’d let him run with it. Another month later and he had a short, carefully curated list of clients, and he was on his way to being the next Mary Anne Kelly. Sans the gruesome murder, he hoped. At first it was _fun_. He liked having sex, and he he liked feeling like he was irresistible, but lately he just felt lost. 

He’d always been so sure of himself, but when he thought of Derek in his car and Stiles’ own shameless flirting he just felt embarrassed and maybe a little guilty. Because even though Derek was shamelessly beautiful— to the point where Stiles’ heart _ached_ when he looked at him— he knew on a certain level that he was fucking with the guy’s head. Derek had a _girlfriend_ , and as far as Stiles could tell, he was straight. Or at least, not out. He knew he was probably making him super fucking uncomfortable and he never wanted to be _that_ guy, but he’d come to the horrible realization that he couldn’t turn it off. 

He’d half expected Derek to proposition him; offer him some cash and ask Stiles to suck him off in the front seat. He didn’t know if he was disappointed or relieved when it didn’t happen. 

Stiles drove around aimlessly for awhile. He was supposed to meet up with Lydia and Malia hours ago, and he had missed calls from both of them. After inspecting his eye in the rearview he decided against it. He slowed down to a crawl as he texted Lydia.

_Sorry lyds I’m good. Can’t stop by tn though. Xx_

She’ll definitely hate that, he thought, skimming over the numerous texts she had sent, getting increasingly angry before shifting to worried, and then angry again. He had been hoping he’d be able to shower that night, but it was looking like that wasn’t an option.

It was too late to do much of anything except find somewhere to park and try to get some sleep, but Stiles ended up driving around for longer than necessary. It was almost two by the time he pulled into the Walmart parking lot and turned off his car. 

He kicked his shoes off and tried not to feel too sorry for himself as he clambered ungracefully into the backseat, smacking his head against the roof of his car in the process. Really, he told himself, he was lucky. And this was all self imposed anyway. _He_ was the one who happily exchanged sex for money. _He_ was the one who let Lydia hang those fucking flyers in the dorms, which in hindsight, was really fucking dumb, even if they had been as “subtle and classy” as Lydia said. 

As he lay in his makeshift bed, he thought of Scott back home, probably ridiculously cozy and comfortable, cuddled up with his beautiful girlfriend. He thought of his dad, and how many lies he’d told him since he’d graduated high school. He thought of his mom, and how if she was watching him now, she’d probably be disgusted. And he thought of Derek. Derek, who he’d spoken to a grand total of two times, but who looked at him as if he could see straight through all his bullshit. 


	3. Guns + Ammunition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Criticism is welcome. I am writing this for fun but I'm always looking for writing advice. I do not have a beta so if you see any mistakes or have any advice don't hold back!
> 
> As always thanks for reading. Comments foreal make my day.  
> Over n out.

Stiles was thirteen minutes late to Calc III the following Monday. Derek knew this because he checked the clock when he came in.

He stumbled in looking like he hadn’t slept all weekend and slouched into a chair without so much as a glance in Dr. Hendrick’s direction. Derek watched him as he pulled his hood up over his head and sunk further into his seat. He didn’t move for the rest of class, obviously sleeping. 

On Wednesday, Stiles didn’t show up at all. Derek had spent the entire class slightly on edge, anticipating he might walk in at any second, but he never came. By the end of the hour Derek felt pathetic, and maybe a bit desperate.

He spent the whole week looking for Stiles without searching him out. In denial about what he was doing even as he scanned the lines and the tables at the cafeteria and the faces of the students rushing to class around him. 

By the time Friday came around he’d hyped the whole thing up so much that he was jittery and nervous all day. It was also Jennifer’s birthday, which had been putting him on edge all week. He blasted the sweet angsty sounds of King Krule through his headphones but even that did nothing to calm his nerves. 

Stiles wasn’t there when Derek walked into calc but he glided into the room with a minute to spare. To Derek’s surprise he threw himself into the chair next to his own, flashing him a quick grin. He didn’t offer a greeting further than that, but after a moment he nudged his elbow into Derek’s bicep.

“Maybe you can help me stay awake.” He kicked his legs up onto the back of the chair in front of him and yawned loudly. “Hendricks sent me an email. Said if I can’t stay awake not to bother coming.” Derek unconsciously grinned back at him.

“So you skipped Wednesday out of spite then?” 

“Spite, revolt, laziness. Yeah, pretty much.” Stiles pulled his laptop out of his bag and flipped it open, visual code studio was already up. He didn’t say anything else and instead began to type rapidly. His long fingers tore over his keyboard with grace and Derek was transfixed. When the professor breezed into the room and commanded attention Stiles didn’t look up. 

Neither of them spoke a word to each other for the rest of class but Derek was hyper aware of Stiles’ presence next to him. Derek felt every time he twitched in his seat or huffed out a frustrated breath, and Stiles was _twitchy_. He was constantly fidgeting. He tapped his foot and chewed on the strings of his sweatshirt, which should have been gross but Derek just found captivating. He was very distracting. When the hour was up and they were dismissed Stiles turned towards him, slamming his laptop shut. 

“There’s a show tonight at Lot 10.” He held up his phone which was displaying the ad for said show. 

_JULY TALK,_ it read. 

_9.20.19_

_DOORS - 9 PM._

_SHOW - 10 PM._

“Kind of a stupid band name, but I’ve seen them before and it was honest to God some of the rawest shit I’ve ever seen." He shrugged. "You should come.” Derek couldn’t tell if Stiles was just really good at sounding blasé or if he truly didn’t care whether Derek made an appearance. He groaned anyway. 

“I— uh. I can’t tonight.” And it physically pained him to say so. He refused to let himself seriously consider blowing Jennifer off, because he knew if he thought about it for long enough he’d end up ditching her on her 21st, and you only get one. 

“Alright dude, no worries.” Stiles stood from his seat. “I guess I’ll see you around.” And then he was weaving his way out of the room without glancing back and Derek was left feeling as though he’d wasted a massive opportunity. He slowly packed up his things and headed towards Isaac and Boyd’s room, ignoring the twist of regret in his stomach. 

When he reached their room and opened the door he saw that they had stolen the couch out of the lounge _again,_ even though Isaac had told him their RA had written them up for doing just that less than a week ago. Boyd was sprawled on the contraband couch playing FIFA and Isaac was scrolling through Spotify, most likely crafting some needlessly extensive and obscure playlist. Boyd didn’t look up when he opened the door but Isaac’s face broke out into a wide grin. 

“Dereeeek. Missed you buddy.” Derek stepped into the room and let the door fall shut behind him. 

“Drunk already?” Isaac nodded sagely.

“He started drinking hours ago.” Boyd said, and then added in a lower voice: “His dad called.” 

Isaac glared at the back of Boyd’s head and took another swig of his drink. 

“That’s irrelevant. I’m not drinking because of _David_.” He said his name like it was a curse. “I’m drinking because it’s _Friday.”_ Derek shrugged and grabbed a beer from their minifridge before flopping down next to Boyd.

“It’s Jenn’s birthday tonight. You guys down to meet us at Flanagan’s?” He tried not to sound like he was desperate but he could hear the plea in his voice. Boyd smirked at him.

“Oh yeah. Wouldn’t miss it.” He deadpanned. Derek glared back at him. 

“It’d seriously make my night a lot better.” He tried, glancing over at Isaac.

“Ignore him. We’ll be there.” Isaac said without looking up. 

Derek appreciated Isaac, especially in moments like these. He was a good guy, a good _friend,_ always down to do what he could to make his friends’ lives a bit easier. He wondered fleetingly what he could do to make Isaac’s life a bit easier. _Tear his father apart, limb by limb,_ came to mind. He flashed Isaac a grateful smile instead. 

“Thanks, man.” They sat in silence for awhile while Derek finished his beer, and then he had to leave to pick up Jennifer. He left them sitting in the exact positions they’d been in when he walked in but they assured him they’d be at Flanagan’s by 9:00. 

  
***  
  


When Derek parked in front of North End Liquor and saw a familiar blue jeep already sitting in the parking lot he internally groaned. _Of course_. He’d been hoping to run into Stiles all week but now that he was off campus with Jennifer, there he was. He immediately felt guilty. He was the absolute _worst_ boyfriend. It was Jenn’s birthday and he was embarrassed to be seen with her. 

“Is it weird that I’m nervous, even though I’m legal?” She asked him as they stepped out of the car. Derek shrugged. 

“Nah. Not really.” 

Stiles wasn’t in his car, but there was a girl in the passenger seat on Facetime. She was beautiful, like, _truly_ drop dead gorgeous, and Derek briefly wondered if Stiles was hooking up with her before pushing the thought from his mind.

Her hair was blonde, but it was glowing red in the sunlight. He watched her face morph into a dazzling smile as she laughed at something the person on her phone screen had said. He knew he was staring but he didn’t tear his eyes away until Jennifer pulled on his arm. 

They were right in front of the door when it swung open and they were suddenly face to face with Stiles. He was carrying a large brown bag in one arm and a bottle of champagne in his other hand. For a moment he looked caught off guard, his eyes flickered between them a few times before he flashed a twisted smile. 

“Hi.” Predictably, horribly, Derek was frozen in place. 

“Hey Stiles.” He forced out. Jennifer had been staring at Stiles as though he’d grown another head but suddenly her face settled into something between horror and interest.

“You’re that kid who got expelled for taking money for sex!” She pointed at him, smirking triumphantly. Stiles’ blinked a few times before taking a step back. He looked _panicked_ and for a moment Derek thought he was going to bolt. Jennifer snapped her fingers excitedly. “Yes, Stiles _,_ that’s _definitely_ it. Matt Daehler was telling me.” She turned to Derek. “Why do you know _him?_ ” But he didn’t get a chance to respond.

“I didn’t get _expelled_.” Stiles said through gritted teeth. He wouldn’t meet Derek’s eyes. _Selling sex._ _Swindling students out of money._ Oh. 

“You—?” The question died on Derek’s lips and he tried not to look as betrayed as he inadvertently felt but he knew he was failing by the way Stiles’ pretty lips twisted into a scowl as he attempted to push by them. Jennifer was _laughing_ and she let him shoulder past them easily. 

Derek followed her into the store, focusing on forcing his face into a look of casual indifference.

“Seriously Der, how do you know him? He try to make some money off you?” She was clearly joking but Derek had a sinking feeling that the obvious flirting _had_ been some sort of business tactic. And Derek had fallen for it like an idiot.

“He’s in my calc class.” He hoped she’d drop it. She didn’t. 

“Calculus? I could’ve sworn he’d been expelled. Matt said he was escorted off campus in _handcuffs.”_ Derek had met Matt Daehler a handful of times and he had immediately hated the kid, but he didn’t see why he’d have motive to lie about something like that. 

Derek just grunted, and Jennifer finally let it go. They left the store a few minutes later, carting with them a bottle of pink wine for Jenn and a bottle of Jameson for Derek. He had decided that he was getting trashed that night. 

“Hey, I told Isaac and Boyd they could meet us at Flanagan’s tonight. That cool?” It wasn’t really a question but Jennifer shrugged. 

“Yeah, sure. As long as Erica’s not with them.”

“Ahh. Pretty sure Boyd was planning to bring her.” Derek winced. He liked Erica, but he understood why Jennifer didn’t. Erica could be a lot sometimes, and she tended to put people on edge if they didn’t understand her particular brand of humor. He found himself thinking that Stiles would probably think she was hilarious, but he pushed the thought from his mind. 

Jennifer looked pissed. 

“It’s my birthday Derek. I don’t want her there.” Derek shrugged noncommittally and Jennifer scowled. “I’m not joking. I do not like that girl.”

"Alright, alright." He held up his hands. "I'll tell him it's close friend's only." If she picked up on the sarcasm she didn't let on, but Derek figured she was smart enough to know that his friend's didn't really like her.

  
***  
  


Derek’s night wasn’t as bad as he’d predicted it would be. They piled into a booth at Flanagan’s and ordered a couple pitchers of beer, and Jenn leaned into his side and smiled at him in that adoring way that made him feel like maybe he was wrong to doubt this, maybe this was as good as it got. Isaac and Boyd only showed up twenty minutes late and everyone seemed to get along fine. 

It was _all_ fine, so Derek couldn’t explain why he felt so restless. When Isaac went to step out for a smoke Derek jumped at the chance to get outside. He flashed Jennifer an apologetic smile as he followed Isaac out and she wrinkled her nose a bit but laughed and waved her hand. It was fine. 

“So, what’s going on Derek?” Isaac asked once they were outside with lit cigarettes. Derek was continuously caught off guard by how _perceptive_ Isaac could be. He huffed out a laugh at the seemingly innocuous question that sent shivers of guilt down his spine. 

“I think I’m bi.” He said after a moment, surprising them both. But really, it would explain this fascination he was rapidly developing for Stiles. He wanted to see him, talk to him, maybe apologize for choking at the liquor store, for letting him slip by and not saying a damn thing. 

_Although_ , Derek reminded himself, most likely Stiles wouldn’t give a shit either way. Most likely, Stiles had just been hoping he’d be able to rope Derek into something and most likely, that was the extent his interest carried. That wasn’t the point though. Derek _was_ interested and even if it led to nothing, that meant enough. 

He shrugged at Isaac, ignoring his friend’s wide smirk. 

“Dereeeeek. Wow.” Isaac’s grin turned into something less insinuative and much warmer. “That’s cool. Happy for you.” He sounded genuine. “You questioning everything with Jennifer then?” And Derek truly did appreciate the bluntness but he didn’t know how to respond. He’d spent his whole life being satisfied fucking girls, he’d never felt like anything was missing but one joint with Stiles and he was questioning his sexuality. He smiled to himself and Isaac quirked an eyebrow in question. 

Derek just shrugged again in response, taking a long drag off his cigarette and forcing memories of smoking with Stiles out of his head. 

When they returned to the table Derek ordered a round of shots for everyone and they all toasted to Jennifer. They were all properly drunk by the time they left but Isaac and Boyd still peeled off to meet up with Erica at Moonies. Derek stuck with Jennifer and her friend, who’s name he hadn’t caught but it was too late to ask. He was buzzed and mostly content with Jennifer leaning into his side, babbling happily with her friend. He didn’t have to participate much more than being a strong body to keep her walking straight and he didn’t mind at all.

And then suddenly, there he was. 

Seeing Stiles there, when for once he hadn’t even been _thinking_ about him, startled Derek out of the dull haze he’d been residing in all night. He was leaning against the brick wall outside of Lot 10 with a cigarette between his lips, looking impossibly good. At some point since Derek ran into him at the liquor store he’d squeezed himself into darker, tighter jeans, and swapped out his usual flannel/hoodie for a dark red button down shirt. He was smoking alone, one foot kicked up against the wall behind him, and he didn’t notice Derek or even lift his head as Jennifer broke out in peels of laughter at something her friend had said. 

Derek could hear a band playing from inside the bar, presumably the band that Stiles had invited him to see, and they were _good._

And Derek knew better, he really did, but he didn’t stand a chance and before he could stop himself he was pointing at the bar. 

“Want to check out Lot 10? There’s a show.” Jennifer smiled and nodded with a little shrug of her shoulder, which Derek hadn’t been expecting, but he grinned at her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder as they walked up. He didn’t look in the direction he knew Stiles was as they walked by, but he was overly conscious of the other boy’s presence. He wished he could tell if Stiles was watching them.

Once inside, Jennifer and her friend made a beeline for the bar and Derek followed them blindy, watching the stage out of the corner of his eye. He watched as the woman on stage flirted casually with the crowd, the whole _room,_ as the man she was performing with scowled at her _._ He was overwhelmed by the bass, the low rasp of the guy’s voice in contrast with the sweet hum of the woman’s, and the half bottle of Jameson he had consumed over the last few hours. 

He shouldered his way to the bar for another drink. 

Jennifer was there in front of him and he rested his head on top of hers. “Happy Birthday.” He breathed. She grinned up at him and twisted to place a kiss on his jaw. 

“Tonight was fun. Thanks for taking me out.” She said it like he’d organized some extravagant night filled with surprises when really he’d just taken her to the bar he frequented with his friends and paid for her drinks. It made him feel proud and guilty all at once, but he returned her smile and kissed her head. 

But then Derek’s eyes landed on Stiles down the bar, standing next to that beautiful blonde from the liquor store parking lot earlier that day. He was totally in his element, leaning against the bar and grinning ear to ear. He had rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows and his hair was sticking up in all directions. He had another cigarette behind his ear. 

Suddenly, he was staring at Derek, staring at _both of them_ and Derek fought the urge to pull away from his girlfriend. And Derek had known this was going to happen, surely. He figured he wouldn’t have walked through the door if he hadn’t _wanted_ to see Stiles. So he flashed him a grin, and couldn’t tamp down his excitement when Stiles smirked back. 

Before they could interact further the bartender was sliding two drinks towards Stiles and the girl he was with pulled on his arm, leading him into the crowd and clutching her drink close to her chest. From Derek’s angle, it looked like the crowd parted for Stiles, giving him a path straight to the stage, and Derek couldn’t look away as he danced his way to the front.

 _Another wasted opportunity_. Derek thought, although he didn’t understand why he felt that way. Opportunity for what? He didn’t know, so he ordered his drink and focused on Jennifer and her body moving to the music. She let out a bright happy laugh as he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close. She threw her head back onto his shoulder and smiled up at him and _this_ , he thought, _this_ _was why he was with her._ She was good for him, mostly, and he wasn’t doing himself any favors by salivating after a guy like Stiles who’d probably chew him up and spit him out again without thinking twice. This was comfortable. This was fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the ending! Next chapter will make up for it. I hope.


	4. Meet the Frownies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of time overlap with the last chapter but as seen through Stiles’ eyes. This was supposed to just be a short snippet but it kinda got away from me. Still pretty short though. 
> 
> I'm a little unsure about this one but as I said it kinda got away from me and I promise the next chapter will be less depressing. 
> 
> (:

Stiles hadn’t planned on working that night, but the guy had said he was a student and that he was good for it. Plus, Stiles had literally just broken his last $20 on drinks and he was feeling particularly willing to bend his rules. 

So he smiled back, wide and insincere. 

“We can go somewhere private.” He whispered in the other man's ear. 

But in a bar _somewhere private_ really just meant a filthy bathroom stall and before Stiles had a chance to change his mind he had his face shoved against the grimy plastic wall with a forearm pinning the back of his neck and _really_ what did it say about him that this was working for him? 

Afterwards, he didn’t even feel like shit about it until the guy shrugged off his subtle— and then not so subtle— attempts to get paid by pulling a little bag of powder out of his pocket and waving it in Stiles’ face. _Oh._

“Yeah, that’s not really gonna work for me.” He tried to sound sure, but he knew his eyes were following the bag as it swung back and forth.

The lighting in the bathroom was awful and yellow and the longer he stared at this guy the more sure he was that he couldn’t be a student. He could hear the music thumping outside the bathroom and he knew he was missing the show. He just wanted to get _out_ of there but this would be a new low for him. Sex in dorm rooms with closeted sports players who handed him crisp bills was one thing. Getting fucked in a bar bathroom for a little baggie of coke was something else.

But he was starting to panic in the enclosed space so he snatched the bag out of the guys hand and ducked out of the stall, muttering curses as he went. _Bastard, bastard, fucking bastard._ He dipped outside for a smoke, keeping his eyes glued to the ground. 

***

On some other night he might’ve pushed himself into the conversations of those around him, might’ve adored the attention of strangers, but tonight he didn’t want it. On some other night he might’ve taken his time with his cigarette, but tonight he smoked quickly and efficiently. He listened silently to the conversations of people smoking around him until he looked up just in time to see Derek ducking inside, draped over his girlfriend.

Stiles forced himself to have no visible reaction, but he felt something bubble up inside him. The possibility of speaking with Derek was exciting, somehow, even though he had rejected Stiles’ invitation to the show and then turned up with his girlfriend anyway. 

Once inside he made a beeline for Lydia at the bar, glaring at the guy next to her until he pulled away enough for Stiles to squeeze in. 

“Took you long enough.” She said by way of greeting. Stiles grinned down at her. 

“You realize Jackson’s lack of stamina is an _exception_ , not the rule, yeah?” It was a cheap shot, always so _easy_ to rip into Jackson, but Lydia smiled cheekily and laughed before he had the chance to be embarrassed by it. He leaned back, grinning at her until he spotted Derek down the bar. 

He was wearing a plain black T shirt, which Stiles might’ve been bored by on anyone else, but it was tight around his shoulders and arms without being _too_ tight, and he was all flushed skin and messy hair, looking so effortlessly sexy. Stiles couldn’t stop himself from imagining what his stubble would feel like scraping against him. 

But his arms were wrapped around his _very_ pretty girlfriend. His girlfriend, who had aired out his secrets and then _laughed_ at him mere hours ago. Derek was watching Stiles though, and Stiles tried to look apathetic but he couldn’t look away, and then Derek was _grinning_ at him, all sharp teeth and lifted eyebrows. It felt like more of a taunt than anything else, but Stiles flashed him a sly smile, testing, searching, curious. And then their drinks were up.

***

Seeing Derek only threw Stiles off for a moment before Lydia whisked him away into the crowd and the music consumed him. He grinned down at her as he spun her around, feeling at ease for the first time all week. This was exactly what he needed, and he was surprised how glad he was that it was _her._ There was something comforting about how she could turn him down one night, and the next look at him like _that._ Like, maybe if this could be fleeting but still real, consistency wasn’t necessary. 

The band was loud and Stiles was drunk. He tried to let his mind be silenced by the commotion, and the sounds, and the lights, but even dancing and distracted he was overly conscious of the bag of powder in his pocket. It felt heavy in his jeans and he couldn’t shake the nagging sense of paranoia that he felt whenever he had hard drugs on him. 

By the end of the show Stiles was beat and sweaty but thrilled and Lydia looked the same. 

“Not too bad then?” He asked, throwing his arm over her shoulder. 

“Could’ve been worse, I guess.”

“So hard to please, Martini.” He grinned at her and she grinned back, leaning forward. She was beautiful, and she obviously knew he wanted her, but she was _testing_ and Stiles was drunk but he wasn’t _that_ drunk so he cleared his throat and stood straight. “How’s Jackson?” He effectively threw a wall up between them and she flashed him an annoyed look.

“He’s fine. One of his lacrosse buddies wanted to meet you, actually.” She lifted an eyebrow and Stiles nodded. 

“Alright, get me a time and a place.” And just like that, moment over. 

***

They stood outside sharing a cigarette and Stiles told himself he wasn’t _looking_ for Derek, but he scanned the faces of the people leaving, waiting for something. When he finally did see Derek he realized that yeah, maybe he had been looking for him, and he couldn’t stop himself from grinning when Derek’s eyes found his. 

“Who is _that?”_ Lydia whispered into his shoulder, obviously impressed as Derek smiled back and made his way towards them. 

“Derek!” Stiles said, both answering Lydia and greeting Derek, maybe just a little too obvious in his delight. “Didn’t think you’d make it out.” 

Stiles noted that his girl was no longer latched to his side and he couldn’t stop himself from picturing an imaginary fight between them. In his fantasy she’d left, furious, because she was horrible and Derek had finally realized he was wasting his time with _women_ when Stiles was right there and perfectly willing to keep his dick warm. 

“Didn’t think I would either.” Derek’s rough voice snapped Stiles out of his head and he felt a blush rising to his cheeks. He was being ridiculous. Most likely, Derek’s girlfriend was lovely and sweet and had never had filthy sex in a filthy bar bathroom, but that didn’t stop Stiles from smirking at him and batting his eyelashes.

“Well, what did you think?” And he genuinely wanted to know. Stiles wasn’t a music snob, he didn’t think, but he felt strongly that music taste was a window to the soul. He could talk about bands for _hours_ if anyone would let him. Lydia cleared her throat beside him before Derek got a chance to answer. 

“Oh fuck, right. Lydia, this is Derek. Derek. Lydia.” She smiled at him a little too wide. 

“ _So_ nice to meet you.” He looked uncomfortable. 

“You too.” He glanced at Stiles and the corners of his lips lifted into a little half smile. “They were pretty fucking good. I’m impressed.” Stiles beamed. 

“Impressed with the band or how well I clean up?” He couldn’t stop himself from saying, realizing too late that he was fishing. Derek blinked and Stiles tried to hide his embarrassment by taking another drag off his cigarette. 

“Both, I guess. Is that eyeliner?” Derek leaned in, smirking back at him and Stiles felt a little bit of his embarrassment dissipate. 

“Oh yeah, this one dressed me tonight.” He gestured to Lydia and she scoffed, most likely at being referenced to as _this one._ Stiles grinned at her cheekily and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. “You’re the only one I’d trust near my eye with a pencil.” He said fondly, leaving out that he had been terrified she’d stab him on purpose as she yelled at him for fidgeting and complaining. She smiled. 

Out of the corner of his eye Stiles saw the man from the bathroom walk out of the bar and he glued his eyes to the ground. 

“Fuck.” He muttered, and Lydia shot him a questioning look but before she could comment the guy was right fucking there. Stiles still refused to look up but apparently that didn’t matter.

“Oh hey there.” The guy slurred. Stiles didn’t dare look at Derek. “Bring her next time and we can do some of that blow.” Stiles flinched, and he felt some of his earlier rage bubble up inside him. He finally looked up, his eyes flashing dangerously. The guy was looking at Lydia with a frankly terrifying expression on his face and Stiles unconsciously stepped in front of her, glaring. The guy just laughed and turned to leave. _God damnit._

“Fuck. Sorry Lydia.” Stiles stammered. He was shaking and he fought the urge to light another cigarette. He chanced a look at Derek but his face was unreadable. Stiles closed his eyes, humiliation burning through him. “ _God damn it.”_

“What the _fuck,_ Stiles.” Lydia snapped. He knew her well enough that she was probably more concerned about him than about the way the guy had just undressed her with his eyes, but he still felt guilty. “ _That’s_ the fucking guy you… did you do _coke_ with him!?” Stiles shook his head erratically. 

“No! No. Fuck no. I don’t know what the fuck he was talking about.” He half lied.

He wished Derek would say something, anything, but he just stood there with his brows furrowed, watching them. 

“You fucking lied to me!” She swatted at his chest. “You said he was a student, _that guy_ was most definitely not…” She trailed off, glancing around them, and seemed to remember where they were. 

Stiles was sure his face was bright red. He succumbed to the need to do something with his hands as he pulled out his cigarettes and lit one with shaking fingers. He glanced at Derek over his cigarette, trying to get a read on his face. This was not sexy. If Derek had any sense he’d walk away right now. 

“Okay. We’re leaving.” Lydia said after a silent moment, snatching Stiles’ freshly lit cigarette out of his hand and crushing it with the toe of her shoe. “You smoke too much.” 

Salt in the wound.

“Yeah, thanks for kicking me while I’m down.” He muttered, and then he was being pulled away. “Bye Derek!” He called over his shoulder, fake cheerful and knowing he was just making himself look like more of an asshole.

***

The walk back to campus was painful for multiple reasons. Stiles _hated_ walking up these hills in general, and it was so much worse with Lydia stomping along next to him, fuming. 

“What the fuck was he talking about, doing _blow?”_ She asked after several long minutes of silence. She sounded slightly less mad, but she was still swearing so maybe she was just tired.

“I didn’t— He _said_ he was a student, okay? And we didn’t do coke or anything. He just, didn’t have cash.” He cringed as he said it. He wished he had just left empty handed, that would’ve been better, somehow. Lydia’s face expressed the same distaste Stiles was feeling. 

“This is my fault.” She said, catching him off guard. 

“What? No way Lydia, you—” 

“Yes! It is. This whole thing was my idea and I shouldn’t have let you go off tonight. This is my fault.” 

“Hey, you told me it was a bad idea. _I_ made a series of bad decisions and that’s on _me,_ Lyds. If I had listened to you—”

“Exactly! I _knew_ it was a bad idea but I still let you go off—”

“You didn’t _let_ me do anything, you tried to stop me and I was a dick!” Stiles yelled.

He groaned, pulling his fingers through his hair. They had a tendency to talk over each other when they disagreed, but he still felt bad for all but screaming at her.

“This conversation is pointless.” He mumbled after a moment. She shrugged.

“Just, don’t do that again, okay? Student’s only, that was the rule.” Her voice was softer now. Stiles nodded. “You’re sleeping in our room tonight. C’mon.” There was no room for debate, so he trailed after her as she swiped her card and let her silently lead him up the stairs.


	5. Hangout at the Gallows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo here is an update!  
> I'm going to try to make them more consistent (once a week) rather than sporadic and random. My Spring break was extended and my classes after that will be online so I will most likely have a lot more time to fuck around and write fanfic!!  
> Silver lining to this crazy time, stay safe everyone.
> 
> Again this is not edited yet bc I am impatient. If you notice mistakes call me out (: but I'm going to go thru tomorrow and fix it up a lil.
> 
> As always thank you for reading!

Derek stood perfectly still for a moment as he watched Stiles and his friend walk away. He knew he should probably be feeling some type of way about the painfully obvious fact that Stiles clearly did not have his shit together and he was hooking up and doing _coke_ with creepy dudes at shows, but the look of panic that had been on Stiles face was burned into his mind.

He returned to his empty room and threw himself into his desk chair. For a moment he sat in the dark, tossing his phone back and forth in his hands and going over the night in his head. 

Before he could change his mind his fingers flew over his phone and he was looking Stiles up on social media.

His facebook mostly consisted of him and a kid named Scott McCall publicly roasting each other, but there were a few photos. One of him and Scott, along with a girl tagged as Allison Argent. Another of him graduating with his arm around the beautiful girl from the bar. _Lydia Martin_ , facebook told him. 

He found his instagram through Isaac’s, but it was private and he couldn’t bring himself to request access. His twitter handle was in the bio though, so Derek hopped over to twitter to glean as much information as he could. 

It was mostly retweets: memes by Elon Musk; an account called Data is Beautiful with a graph charting the number of times Mac Miller referenced death per album; Calvin and Hobbes comic strips. But sprinkled throughout were Stiles’ own words in the form of sarcastic, hilarious jabs and complaints about the world at large or poignant takes on films and video games. His twitter was public _and_ in his instagram bio, but Derek still felt like he was observing something deeply personal. These were Stiles’ unfiltered thoughts and he was suddenly very glad he was alone because _seriously_ he was being creepy.

How this made him feel _made_ it creepy. 

And then all at once Derek was terrified, or something very close to terrified, because he was a mess and this was ridiculous and everything he knew about this kid was a fucking red flag. He was letting himself get completely caught up in something completely meaningless. The last time he’d felt this way, with _Kate,_ everything had blown up in his face. Plus he had a girlfriend, and Stiles was a hooker, or something, and stalking his twitter was pointless and stupid because really it just hurt. So Derek quit the app and tossed his phone onto his bed. 

When he finally forced himself to sleep he dreamt of honey brown eyes and creamy pale skin. He woke up painfully hard with a pounding headache. 

* * *

Stiles woke up in Lydia’s bed with her hair in his mouth. 

The sunlight was beating down on him through the windows and it was so, _so_ hot. Malia was nowhere to be seen, and a quick glance at the clock on the wall told him it was well past noon. His skin stuck to Lydia’s as he groaned and reached over her for his phone. She didn’t even twitch. 

He had a missed call from Scott, about one hundred messages in a group chat for his Philosophy group project, and a text from Isaac. 

_bro this algorithms hw :( can u lend a hand?_

He was in the middle of typing out a response when Lydia stirred next to him. 

“Hey.” He murmured, pulling away slightly. She smiled at him sleepily. 

“Morning.” 

“We slept through the morning, actually.” And that had her jolting into an upright position. 

“God damn it, what time is it? I was supposed to meet Jackson at—” But she was cut off by banging on the door. Stiles grinned at her. 

“Lydia are you in there!? You’re so fucking late.” She cringed, rolling out of bed and crossing the room gracefully before opening the door to reveal a very pissed off Jackson. His gaze zeroed in on Stiles, shirtless in her bed, and his scowl deepened. _Fair._ Stiles thought, but he couldn’t stop himself from taunting him with a little smirk and a lift of his eyebrow. “If you fucked him I want you to get tested.” Jackson snapped, which kind of pissed Stiles off. He bit back a harsh response for Lydia’s sake. 

Lydia and Jackson were not dating. He had wanted to keep things casual, to keep his options open, and Stiles got some sick enjoyment out of watching him get mad at the idea of Lydia with another guy. 

“It’s none of your business who I fuck.” Lydia said brightly, which induced a look of pure fury on Jackson’s face.

“I’m clean, anyway.” Stiles held up his hands innocently and tried not to look like he was enjoying himself, but he didn't correct Jackson's assumption.

He slid out from the bed and snatched his shirt from the ground, feeling Jackson’s eyes on him as he slid his arms in and buttoned it. “Well. I gotta run, busy day. Enjoy your brunch!” He grinned over his shoulder at Lydia’s sour expression as he pushed past Jackson into the hallway. 

He could hear them arguing as he walked down the hall and up until he entered the stairwell and the door shut behind him, effectively silencing them. He leaned back against the cold stone wall and took a few breaths before glancing down at his phone and realizing he’d never answered Isaac. 

_Yeah no worries. Meet me at the lib?_

He dug his earbuds out of his pocket and pushed off the wall, ignoring the way his stomach twisted when his fingers brushed against the plastic bag that was still in his front pocket. He headed towards the parking lot by Terraces, where he’d left his car overnight. Julian Casablancas’ rough voice did little to calm him down, and despite refusing to seriously reflect on any potential fallout from the night before, he was unable to get Derek out of his head. 

The thought of seeing him again scared him a little. Smoking with him in his jeep felt so long ago, when in reality it had only been a week. It had felt so _easy_ when he could pretend to be casually homeless, when the worst things Derek knew about him was that he slept in the back of his car and quit smoking every two months, but how was he supposed to act _now?_

He was relieved to see his car in the same spot he’d left it, windshield void of parking tickets. He swung himself into the driver’s seat and turned to dig through his bag as a text came through. 

_just come thru my room we can smoke after_

Stiles smiled a bit at that. He changed as quickly as possible in the cramped car, shoving the baggie of coke into the center console when it fell out of his pocket. He swallowed an Adderall dry, frowning at the empty bottle he was left with.

The weather had yet to turn, and it was warm despite the clouds, so Stiles trekked across campus on foot.

* * *

When he knocked on the door it swung open almost immediately to reveal Isaac, looking more distraught than Stiles had ever seen him.

“Dude.” Stiles laughed. “How you holding up?” 

“I don’t know, man. I really dunno.” Isaac ran his hands through his already messy hair, leaving it sticking up in all directions. “This semester is wack, I’m seriously considering dropping out.” Stiles smiled, moving around him and into the room. His roommate— Boyd?— was out, and the couch that had taken up most of the small space the last time Stiles had been in there was gone, which made the room feel spacious. 

Stiles hovered behind Isaac as he fell into the chair in front of his desk. He ran his finger over the touchpad to wake up his computer and then stared blankly at the code template for the Algorithms homework. 

“I don’t even know where to begin.” He said.“I’ll throw you $20 if you just… do it.” He looked a little guilty as he asked, but mostly just _tired._ Stiles figured he was probably just hungover but he still felt bad so he shrugged and nodded and the words _Academic Dishonesty_ didn’t even cross his mind. 

“Alright, you’ve got a deal.” He smiled at Isaac’s thrilled expression and he threw himself onto his bed, making grabby hands for his laptop. 

“$30 if you slide me a couple Addy XR?” Isaac said as he slid his computer over to him. 

“Ahh, you're gonna have to give me a few days on that. I’m out until the end of the month.” Isaac looked almost as disappointed by that as Stiles felt but he shrugged and nodded. They fell into silence as Stiles tapped away at his computer. 

Stiles had completed this exact homework the day it was assigned so he worked quickly and efficiently until Isaac’s phone chirped and he glanced up, momentarily distracted. 

“Hey, my boy Derek is stopping by. You remember him from last weekend?” Stiles lifted his eyebrows. _Ohhhhh._

“Um, yeah. I remember.” He really wasn't ready for this but he rolled his shoulders and tried to shift his focus back onto the screen in front of him. Derek probably didn’t give a shit, he told himself. He’d probably forgotten about their interaction the moment Stiles walked away. An interaction that had been horribly uncomfortable and humiliating for Stiles but most likely hadn’t affected Derek’s night whatsoever. Stiles wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse. 

When the knock sounded on the door Stiles tensed up unconsciously and then forced himself to relax. He didn’t look up when it opened, but he knew what he’d see if he did. Derek Hale. Probably looking dead gorgeous, wearing that _fucking_ leather jacket and a thoughtful expression. Probably with effortlessly tousled hair, looking miserable and a little confused and ultimately delicious. 

He did look up after a moment, unable to resist, and he was floored by how _right_ he had been. Delicious. 

“Heeey, Derek.” A smirk, hopefully, but maybe just a grimace. If Derek was surprised to see Stiles there he didn’t show it. 

“What’s up.” Derek asked with no inflection whatsoever, giving nothing away. Isaac answered for him.

“Stiles is blessing my GPA with a good homework grade. I’m thinking of switching majors.” He laughed but it was hollow and Derek flashed him a sympathetic look before flopping down on Boyd’s bed across the room. Stiles stared resolutely at the screen, forcing himself to focus on the letters and numbers in front of him rather than the way Derek’s presence was literally giving him heart palpitations. 

“You enjoy the rest of your night?” Isaac asked Derek. Stiles internally groaned. He was unable to stop his eyes from flashing up to Derek, desperate to gauge his reaction, but he glanced down immediately when he realized Derek was already looking at him. 

“Yeah, it was fine.” Derek said stiffly, again giving nothing away. Stiles finished the second to last method and compiled the code. No errors. “How was Moonies?” Derek asked flatly, but somehow still managing to sound interested.

“A bit of a mess, honestly.” Isaac laughed and then launched into a synopsis of his night, explaining how the bouncer had taken Erica’s fake and then threatened to call the cops when she told him she’d do _anything_ to get inside. How Boyd had nearly gotten a ticket for public indecency after pissing in an alley but had somehow talked himself out of it. Stiles half listened, half typed, desperate to finish the assignment and either get high or get out. He could feel Derek’s eyes on him and the urge to look up at him was overwhelming, but Stiles forced himself to focus and he finished the problem set right as Isaac finished his story. 

He slid the laptop off his lap, towards Isaac, and flashed him a triumphant grin. Isaac looked a little thrown. 

“You’re fucking done already?” He sounded panicked and Stiles felt kinda bad. 

“Took me a lot longer the first time.” He lied easily, and then smiled faux sweetly as he leaned towards him and held up his hand for the money. Isaac slapped a $20 bill into his hand and smiled back at him. 

“Thanks man. You’re an actual saint.” Derek snorted, but when Stiles glared over at him his eyes were alight with genuine amusement. “Still tryna smoke?” Isaac asked.

“Yeah, definitely.” 

“Derek, you in?” Derek shrugged

The silence that fell over them as Isaac set up his bong was slightly tense. Stiles tried not to be too obvious but he couldn’t help watching Derek. He’d pulled out his phone and he had a frown etched onto his face as his fingers flew over the screen. 

“Stiles, you want A’s?” Isaac broke the silence, holding the bong out towards Stiles who took it gratefully. 

Isaac tossed him a lighter with a picture of ET on his bike flying in front of the moon and Stiles grinned at it for a moment, distracted. 

“So where’s your roomie today? I don’t think he likes me much.” Stiles asked Isaac, mostly to fill the silence after he’d taken a hit and looked up to find Derek staring at him. Isaac laughed.

“Nah that’s just Boyd. He acts all tough and emotionless but he’s a big softie at heart. Jus’ like Derek over here.” Isaac shot finger guns at Derek and he shot him a nasty look, but then grinned a little. “He’s out with Erica, doing god knows what.” 

“Ahhh yes. Erica. I’ve got a feeling we’d get along.” Stiles grinned, thinking of the culmination of things he’d heard about Erica. Definitely a wild one.

“The two of you in a room together would be terrifying.” Derek cut in with a smirk. Stiles meant to bite back at him with something witty but he was distracted as he watched Derek lean forward and wrap his fingers around the neck of the bong as he pulled it from Isaac’s hands. For a moment the only sounds were the soft bubbling as Derek ripped the bong, and the low sounds of Tame Impala playing out of Isaac’s speaker. Stiles tore his eyes away as smoke started pouring past Derek’s lips. 

They didn’t stay long. 

Derek got up to leave shortly after smoking, and Stiles forced down his disappointment and flashed his best grin Derek’s way, but the moment Derek left Stiles regretted his apathy and ducked out of the room behind him.

* * *

“Hey? Yo— hold up a sec.” Stiles took a few quick steps to catch up to Derek, who gave him a probably exasperated but possibly amused look. Stiles took a deep breath. “I figured I should apologize for.. I don’t know, for that drama last night. Super off-putting. I know. My life is… weird at the moment.” He seriously regretted opening his mouth. _Why was he bringing this up?_ Had this been his plan? He didn’t think so. 

“It doesn’t have to be weird.” Derek said with a shrug, “I mean like, between us.” As if it were really just that simple. Stiles squinted at him and rubbed his eye.

“Yes, I’m aware. Thank you.” He said, frustrated that he was so thrown off by Derek. He stared at him for a moment. _I want to have sex with you._ He thought, and then definitely started blushing. He glared at the ground. “Sorry.” He mumbled, when he looked up and Derek was watching him, looking exasperated. 

“What do you want, Stiles?” And despite the fact that he sounded exhausted and maybe a little bored, Stiles felt his stomach dip at the sound of his name rolling off of Derek’s tongue. What did he want? He wanted to hear Derek _moan_ his name. Over and over again. He wanted to feel the heat and weight of Derek’s body, _as soon as possible._ He wanted to get out of this situation because he was honestly crashing and burning and totally humiliating himself. 

“I don’t _want_ anything. I was just trying to clear the air.” He finally said, lying through his teeth. 

“Well, don’t worry about it. Consider it cleared.” Derek did a weird little hand motion to mime the clearing of the air and Stiles’ clenched his jaw to keep from saying something stupid.

They both just stood there in the hallway for a moment, looking at each other.

“Awesome— great." Stiles cleared his throat. "So glad to hear it.” He realized too late it sounded like he was being insincere and maybe a little mean. “I mean, really. Like, I was genuinely concerned.” He bit his lip to get himself to _shut up._

Derek rolled his eyes but looked like he might've been trying not to smile, and when his eyes flashed down to Stiles’ lips it felt like maybe he had a chance. So he leaned in a little, looked up at him through his lashes and smirked. 

“Actually, there might be _one_ thing I want.” He breathed, and then tried not to let the crushing disappointment show when Derek scoffed and pulled away from him. 

“Be real.” And Stiles didn’t know how to explain that he _was_ being real, so he shrugged and stepped away from Derek. 

“You coming?” He asked, turning towards the elevator and trying to keep his voice steady. He moved forward without looking back and was relieved when he heard Derek following behind him. 

The ride down the elevator was a little tense, and Stiles gnawed at his lip to keep himself from opening his mouth and embarrassing himself further. He could feel the familiar burn of anger building up in his chest but he couldn’t put his finger on _why._

When they finally emerged from the building and he realized it was pouring rain he didn’t even know why he was surprised. Typical. 

“God _fucking damnit.”_ He muttered. Derek turned to look at him with his eyebrows raised, _taunting him,_ Stiles decided. It wasn’t a long walk back to Terraces but it would definitely be miserable in rain like this. Stiles prepared himself for wallowing the whole way in soggy self pity. He glared back at Derek, defensive.

“You need a ride somewhere?” He was surprised to hear. “My car is like, right there.” He pointed into the parking lot through the storm. Stiles only hesitated a moment before giving in.

“Um. You don’t mind?” Derek shrugged in a way that wasn’t all that convincing but Stiles _really_ didn’t want to walk across campus in this mess so he dashed out into the rain behind him. 

He stopped short when Derek unlocked a shiny black Camaro. 

Stiles barely noticed that he was getting drenched as the rain pounded down on him because _that_ was an expensive car. He fought the look of disdain from his face but his feet were rooted to the ground.


	6. Make it Wit Chu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo I recognize that this fic is kinda all over the place but there will be some direction within the next couple chapters.  
> Also this chapter is painfully short and almost entirely dialogue but it was originally a piece of the last chapter that I wanted to change up a bit. Still going to try to post the next full chapter on Thursday.
> 
> Thanks for reading (:

Derek didn’t notice that Stiles had stopped following him until he’d swung himself into the car, and saw him still standing a few yards away from the car. He was already completely _drenched_ and his shirt was clinging to his torso, which was both endearing and startingly appealing. He was staring at Derek with his mouth agape, and Derek couldn’t help smiling because Stiles was beautiful and graceful when he wanted to be, but he was also a complete disaster. He didn’t want to unpack why he found that so damn _appealing_ so he just flashed him a confused look and beckoned him forward. Stiles shook himself out of whatever hole he’d thought himself into and slipped through the passenger door. 

“So you’re like, loaded, huh?” He asked immediately, his voice thick with disdain. Derek waited for the anger that flared up whenever anybody made that assumption, but it never came, and he found himself transfixed by a water droplet slide down the side of Stiles’ face. _Weird._

“Actually no. Not really. When my parents died they left us some money.” He left out that he’d recklessly spent a lot of it on this damn car. This car that symbolized so much _pain_ and yet still brought him so much joy. This car that he’d expected to wrap around a tree within the first week. Stiles stayed silent for a moment. 

“I’m sorry.” He finally said. “I shouldn’t have assumed.” Derek was surprised to find that he really didn’t mind. 

“It’s cool. Where am I dropping you?” 

“Oh, um, you can just drop me at my car. It’s parked by Terraces.” Derek nodded and shifted into reverse, ignoring the feeling of Stiles’ eyes watching him. 

“Sooo. Derek Hale. What’s your major again?” Stiles’ tone was playful as he leaned across the console and into Derek’s space. Derek dutifully kept his eyes on the road ahead of him, but he could feel his body reacting to the close proximity. He felt the tension in the air as though it were a tangible thing, and he wondered if Stiles was aware of the effect he was having on Derek. He _must_ be. 

“Anthropology.” He gritted out. This seemed to surprise Stiles, and he let out a soft hum of interest that went straight to Derek’s dick. 

“Yeah? What makes people so interesting?” His words were challenging but his tone was interested. Derek flicked his eyes away from the road for a moment. 

“It’s not just about finding _people_ interesting, more like, finding patterns in human behavior throughout history. I like the idea that we’re all connected in some way, even through time.” The words felt corny coming out of his mouth, but Stiles smiled widely. 

“Oh yeah, I can understand that. Like, sympathy for the human condition and all that.” Which hadn’t been exactly what Derek meant, but he smiled back and nodded anyway. 

“And what’re _you_ studying?” He realized too late that he sounded too interested, but Stiles just grinned at him, leaning back into his seat. 

“Computer Science. Thought that might’ve been obvious.” Because he was Isaac’s lab partner, which Derek had only known because he’d asked Isaac where he met Stiles, as well as a few other prying questions. But Stiles didn’t know that, hopefully. 

“You like it?” Stiles took a minute before answering, and they were already at the other side of campus, pulling into the Terraces parking lot by the time he replied. 

“It comes easily to me.” Derek waited for him to elaborate but he fell silent, apparently lost in thought as he watched the rain through the window. Derek spotted Stiles’ jeep and pulled into the empty spot next to it before turning to face Stiles.

“It comes easily to you… but?” Stiles laughed at that, flashing Derek a grin that hit him like a punch to the gut. 

“It comes easily to me, but… I don't know. I always pictured myself doing something like, important?” He ran his fingers through his wet hair, leaving it sticking up in all directions in a way that Derek refused to be enamored by. “God that sounds so _conceited._ I just meant, it feels insignificant. I thought by now I’d…” He trailed off, suddenly very interested in his fingernails. 

“Doesn’t sound conceited.” Derek said, after it had become clear Stiles wasn’t going to finish his thought. Stiles flashed him another brief grin before his face settled into something more strained. 

“Thanks." He said, chewing his bottom lip. "And thanks for the ride too. I'll see you around Derek.” And then he was turning away to open the door. Derek’s hand darted out to catch his wrist before he could think about what he’s doing. 

“Wait, Stiles.” He turned expectantly and Derek had _no clue_ what he had planned on saying, but he didn’t want Stiles to leave yet. “What’re you doing right now?” 

“I, uh, I’m meeting up with someone at 4 to.. study.” Which was obviously a lie, but Derek ignored the way his chest twisted up. 

“You’re free until then though?” Stiles nodded, still looking a little confused. “Are you hungry?” Derek’s voice was steady, which he was thankful for, because he was internally freaking out. _What was he doing?_

Stiles flashed him a slow smirk. 

“Always.” He said, his voice going low as he leaned forward momentarily. He turned it off as fast as he had turned it on though, and a genuine smile stretched across his lips as he settled back into the passenger seat. “You buying?” Derek laughed. 

“Yeah sure.” And then he quickly pulled out of the parking lot, before either of them could change their minds. 


	7. Fire and the Thud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is _so_ late and _so_ short but I deleted and rewrote the whole thing like five fucking times.  
> BUT the next chapter is quite a bit longer and already almost finished. (:
> 
> If anyone is actually like, waiting for these updates thanks for waiting. And thank you for reading ❤️

They ended up at a diner a few miles down the road.

_Lincoln Street Diner—_ The sign read, blinking ominously at them through the rain. 

It was a grimy, hole in the wall sort of place that Stiles immediately loved, with sticky plastic booths and sticky plastic menus, complete with a broken jukebox in the corner and waitresses reeking of cigarettes. 

They didn’t wait to be seated, opting to sit at a secluded corner booth next to a window with a crack running up and over out of Stiles’ line of vision. Derek looked almost embarrassed as Stiles took it all in. 

“I know.” He said, apparently assuming that Stiles was judging the diner negatively. “My sister _loves_ it here though, and the food is surprisingly really good.” Stiles shook his head. 

“Nah. This is perfect.” He flashed Derek a grin to support his claim. “Honestly this is _exactly_ my kind of place.” 

Stiles very rarely struggled to fill silences, but he found himself unsure what to say as Derek looked over the menu. He watched Derek’s face, trying to get a read on him, but he couldn’t figure out what Derek’s game was. He’d always felt as though he were a step apart from other kids his age. Grief changed people, and it was something you couldn’t understand unless you’d been through it yourself. 

Stiles felt a sudden, overwhelming sense of companionship with Derek. He _never_ talked about his mother with anyone other than Scotty, but he found himself wanting to now. Derek smiled over at him. Stiles kept his mouth shut.

The Waitress who came over to take their order was definitely more than a little flustered by Derek. She blushed and stumbled over her words, and as Stiles listened to Derek politely order a breakfast wrap with a side of hash browns he really couldn’t blame her. The boy had _manners,_ and Stiles was definitely blushing too when Derek’s lips quirked up at the corners after glancing over and noticing Stiles staring. 

Stiles ordered a coffee and a short stack of pancakes, and then added a milkshake at the last second because it wasn’t everyday someone offered to buy him brunch and he was not about to squander this opportunity. 

“She was totally gagging for it.” He said to Derek once she had walked away, wiggling his eyebrows in a way he knew looked ridiculous. Derek pulled an ugly face. “Sorry, sorry. Forgot you had a girlfriend.” Stiles said quickly, and then kicked himself for it. He did not want to talk about _Jennifer._ Derek laughed. 

“It’s not that. Just, _gagging for it?”_ He looked vaguely scandalized and Stiles grinned back at him, unrepentant. 

“So, you’re a senior?” Stiles asked after a moment, although he’d already gotten that information from Isaac. Derek nodded.

“You’re not?”

“Nah dude, I’m a sophomore.” Derek looked surprised.

“So you’re under twenty-one.” Derek lifted his eyebrows and Stiles flashed him a wide grin. 

“Oh yeah. 19.” Derek hadn’t even thought about it, but now that he knew, it was obvious Stiles was younger than him. “None of my friends have a fake though, so it’s _always_ on me to pick up liquor.” He pulled his wallet out to show Derek possibly the worst fake ID he had ever seen. 

“This works?” Derek asked incredulously. Stiles smiled. 

“Oh yeah. I rarely get turned down.” He winked, and got a snort of almost laughter in return. 

***

After they ate and Derek paid, he reluctantly drove Stiles to the Senior apartments and did his best not to think about what he knew Stiles was going to be doing there. The rain had softened to a light drizzle, and neither of them spoke much in the car, but Stiles sang softly along when Mardy Bum came on shuffle. It was comforting.

When Derek stopped the car and Stiles got out quickly, flashing him a warm smile and thanking him repeatedly for the ride and the meal, all Derek could muster was a stilted: "Be careful." Stiles frowned a little in response, but Derek didn't know if it was annoyance at his concern or from being called on his lie of _studying._ Derek blasted the Arctic Monkeys the whole way back to his dorm, and didn’t feel any better for it.

***

After that, Stiles made a point of sitting next to Derek in class, and sometimes they even walked out together. They might have been friends. Derek wasn’t really sure what to call it; all he knew was that it felt _good_ to be close to Stiles, to spend time with him. Although, he came to realize that Stiles’ moods were incredibly unpredictable. Some days he would slip into the seat next to Derek’s with a wide grin and a pat on the shoulder, and others he would pull his hood over his head and ignore him the entire period. 

But he always sat in the same seat. 

Through conversation and observation, Derek learned that Stiles’ father was a Sheriff back home, and that Stiles smoked his first cigarette when he was sixteen years old. He learned that Stiles was sometimes reckless to the point of being self-destructive (something he’d guessed at before) and that he was fiercely protective of those he cared about, to the point where he sometimes acted in ways that were morally dubious (something he could relate to). He learned that while Stiles was stunning he was also wicked sharp and way too clever and with each conversation Derek became a little more obsessed.

But the more time he spent with Stiles, the guiltier he felt, and although they hadn’t spent time together outside of class since the diner, Derek thought about him constantly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fire and the Thud is a song by the Arctic Monkeys and you should go listen to it right now. 
> 
> My [Tumblr](https://brillinski.tumblr.com/)


	8. Good God Damn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did not expect to have this up so soon but TA DA.  
> Sorry this chapter is a little all over the place (':
> 
> Next chapter is already finished and I mighhhhtt even post it tomorrow if I can actually bring myself to edit it after my classes.  
> Thanks for reading and commenting and seriously if you find mistakes please let me know ❤️❤️

Flannagan’s Friday night trivia was a new thing.

Personally, Derek wasn’t really a fan of that kinda thing, but Erica was ecstatic and Boyd was indifferent and Isaac was always down for anything, so it didn’t take much convincing before he succumbed to Erica’s pleas. They got there early, and Derek was surprised to see that the bar, which was usually borderline empty, was packed. 

He didn’t notice Stiles until he heard his laughter, and Derek involuntarily snapped his head towards the sound. Stiles was standing at the bar, grinning into his beer and talking with a group of people who all seemed completely captivated by him. He looked so fucking good, Derek couldn’t blame them. 

Maybe it was Derek’s intoxication, but Stiles looked brighter that night. He had his arm thrown around the shoulder of a guy he didn’t recognize, and his grin was fervent and wide. Lydia was among the group, leaning up against a bored looking guy Derek thought might be on the lacrosse team. Derek watched as one of the other girls they were with leaned in towards Stiles to whisper something in his ear, and he wasn’t surprised to see Stiles smirk down at her and rest his hand on her lower back. He didn’t realize he was glaring until Erica kicked him under the table.

“Derek, who’s that guy you’re staring at?” Which got both Boyd and Isaac’s attention. Isaac glanced over his shoulder and immediately zeroed in on Stiles. He gave Derek a slow smirk. 

_“Stiles?”_ He asked. Derek ignored him and closed his eyes as he took a sip from his beer. “Derek, listen, I love the kid, but he’s a bit…” He trailed off, lifting his eyebrows. Derek rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah. I know.” Because he didn’t know exactly what Isaac was going to say but he could guess at the sentiment. “It’s not really like that.” Erica snorted. 

“Seriously man, I mean, he’s a good kid, but I wouldn’t…” Isaac paused. “I mean. He _has_ asked about you actually, but... You know he sleeps around for extra cash?” There was no judgement in his voice, just concern for Derek, and _Derek_ had judged at first but he still got the urge to defend the kid. Erica jumped in before he got the chance. 

“No shit. That kid by the bar?” Their whole table was staring at him now, but Stiles was still unaware, leaning in close to the girl next to him as he spoke with her. Derek sunk lower into his seat, glaring at his friends. Erica’s grin was straight up terrifying. 

“Did you sleep with him?” She purred, leaning in close to wrap her manicured hand around his wrist and then laughing loudly when he shoved her away. 

“No! No. Nothing like that. I’m with Jennifer.” Erica rolled her eyes, and even Boyd looked skeptical. 

“But you wanted to.” She sang, not leaving any room for debate. “Blake’s a bitch. And so _boring_ too. You could do better.” She laughed again at the expression on his face. “C’mon. You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.” He was definitely blushing but he shook his head and slouched even lower into his seat. 

“Fuck off.” She shot him a knowing look but thankfully dropped it. 

“Where is Jennifer tonight?” Isaac asked, not even a full minute later, eyebrows scrunched together in an uncharacteristically scrutinizing way. Derek shrugged. 

“I didn’t ask.” He said simply, and Boyd burst out laughing. 

Derek stared at him for a minute. 

“Sorry, sorry.” Boyd was still laughing and Erica was grinning up at him happily, looking properly distracted. Derek had almost let his guard down, assuming they were done talking about it, when Boyd pulled himself together and said: “It’s just, I don’t get it. You can’t stand her.” 

“That’s not true!” Derek said quickly. Too quickly. His friends all rolled their eyes simultaneously, in a way that suggested they had been practicing that exact move whenever his back was turned. He flipped them off and refused to say anything else on the subject of Stiles.

  
  


***

When the trivia began, Stiles was sitting sideways in a nearby booth, with his legs thrown over the lap of the guy sitting next to him. Lydia was sitting across from Stiles and his friend, leaning into the same miserable looking guy as before, but Stiles was completely focused on the guy sitting beside him, and Derek felt agitated just by looking at them. He watched as Stiles reached over to ruffle the guy’s hair, letting out a loud peel of laughter. He swallowed down the sour taste in his mouth and tried to focus on _anything_ else, but failed almost instantly. 

Stiles’ table named their team “Team Jacob” which Stiles and the boy next to him clearly found hilarious, but it still wasn’t until ten minutes into questions that Derek realized he had been roped into _Twilight_ trivia. 

He knew next to nothing about Twilight, and the questions were so obscure and ridiculous that even Erica gave up pretty quickly. They ordered another round of drinks and sat back to watch. 

Team Jacob swept. 

Clearly there was something wrong with Derek, because Stiles looked happier than he had ever seen him, and all Derek felt was bitter. Stiles was practically cuddling up to the kid in the booth, right in front of him. Derek didn’t think Stiles had even noticed him, but he realized it wouldn’t matter either way, because _they barely knew each other,_ and Derek was acting insane. 

But when Derek saw Stiles get up and move alone towards the bar, he finished his beer in two big gulps and slid out of the booth to follow, ignoring his friends' jeers from behind him.

  
  


***

Stiles felt like he was on top of the world. 

He was pleasantly drunk, slightly stoned, and Scotty was there with him. For once, everything was perfect— almost. He could’ve gone without Jackson, always, but even he seemed to be behaving himself tonight. They had _swept_ in trivia, thanks to Lydia, and once it was over Stiles offered to buy the next round in celebration of their victory and headed up to the bar. 

He flashed the cute bartender a smile and was about to strike up a conversation when he spotted Derek’s broad shoulders heading towards him. He bit back a grin and forced his face into something casual and cool.

“Well, if it isn’t Don Juan.” Derek drawled once he’d reached the bar, shooting Stiles one of those devastating smiles that went straight to his dick. Stiles had not expected to see Derek tonight and he tried not to look too eager, but all he could think was _oh shit oh shit._

“Mmm. I’ll take that as a complement.” He said once he had figured out how to form words again. “You come over here to buy me a drink?” He laughed when Derek scoffed. 

He looked so fucking sexy leaning against the bar, all furrowed brows and perfect hair, with his mouth quirked up into some infuriating cross between a smirk and a scowl. Stiles glanced over his shoulder to check to see who he was there with, and then leaned in closer when he didn't see his girlfriend. 

“I guess it would be rude not to now.” Derek smiled at him but Stiles still felt a wave of insecurity that he’d pushed too far again. “What’re you drinking?” 

“Sloop juice.” 

Derek pulled an ugly face, but he ordered him the beer, along with a Blue Moon for himself. 

“Didn’t know you were a fan of Twilight.” Derek said once they had their beers in front of them, clearly amused. Stiles flashed him a slow smile. 

“I’ve read the books.” He said carefully. “Really we just won because of Lydia’s photographic memory. God bless that girl, honestly.” Derek took a long sip of his beer and Stiles was thoroughly thrown off by the sight of his exposed neck and the way the muscles in his throat moved as he swallowed down the liquid. He averted his eyes quickly but his face was burning and he felt completely pathetic. He usually had more game than this, he thought. 

When he finally met Derek’s gaze Derek shot him an amused, slightly confused look, likely at the expression of sheer panic on Stiles’ face. 

Before Stiles could embarrass himself further, Derek’s eyes flicked over his shoulder and Scott appeared beside him, throwing his arm around him and grinning down at him in a way that told Stiles he was just on the other side of _buzzed_ and was definitely going to be drunk once he had another drink in him. 

“Hellooo.” Scott said cheerfully. “What’s taking so long?” Stiles shoved him off good naturedly. 

“Scott.” Stiles said, sounding a little tense. “This is _Derek.”_ And Derek preened a bit at the weight Stiles put on his name, as if Scott would have some idea as to who he was. 

“Derek!” Scott said happily, flashing him a huge grin. “S’really good to meet you dude!” Derek nodded his head dumbly, slightly thrown off by the guy’s cheerful attitude. He shook the hand that Scott extended out to him.

“Yeah, you too.” He belatedly realized this must be Scott McCall, who Stiles had mentioned on more than one occasion, and who was prominently featured on his Facebook. From what he had gathered he was the (straight) high school best friend who Stiles still spoke with regularly. He felt more than a little stupid, and once again he cursed himself for how Stiles seemed to make him act like a complete idiot. 

“You don’t have to worry about those drinks dude.” Scott was saying. “Lydia wanted to just head back to drink at the dorms. I know your roommate is a piece of shit but she said we could go back to her room?” He flashed Stiles a questioning look and Stiles shrugged in return. 

“Sounds good.” 

Derek was surprised that Scott was unaware of Stiles’ living situation, but he obviously wasn’t about to sell him out. He glanced over at his table to see that Erica and Boyd had ditched and Isaac was sitting alone, tapping at his phone. 

“Alright, well. I’ll see you?” Stiles asked, looking a little unsure, but mostly just disappointed. Derek flashed him a smile. 

“We’re probably headed out too. Are you walking?” Stiles’ grin was answer enough, but he nodded erratically anyway. 

“Us too, if you wait a sec we could go together?” Stiles grinned and nodded again and then elbowed Scott hard in his side when he started making gagging noises. 

  
  


***

Scott and Isaac hit it off instantly, but Stiles refused to be distracted by or jealous of Scott’s ability to befriend anyone and everyone. Besides, it gave him a chance to fall back and talk to Derek, which he would be a fool to complain about.

He lit a cigarette while they walked and the burning in his lungs made him feel slightly calmer, but the alcohol and his proximity to Derek was making his skin buzz. He smoked in silence for a minute, the sounds of Isaac and Scott talking up ahead of them drifting back. He was surprised when Derek reached for his cigarette. The back of Derek’s fingers were warm when they brushed at his hand and the way he looked with smoke pouring out of his lips made Stiles’ breath catch in his throat. 

“My dad used to smoke.” Derek said suddenly, catching Stiles off guard. “My mom hated it, but I always found it… Comforting? Almost.” Stiles nearly tripped trying to take the cigarette out of Derek’s outstretched hand. Derek snorted. “But then they died in a fire, and I guess I kind of related smoke to death for a while after that.” 

“But you still smoke.” 

“Only around you.” Derek said, smiling a little, but Stiles felt it like the slap in the face it was. “And I _know_ that my car is ridiculous.” Derek cut in before Stiles had a chance to respond, sounding like this was a conversation he’d had before. “And I’m sure my mom would fucking hate it, but I wanted to spend the money on something that I could have with me, something that would mean something to me.” Stiles stared at him for a moment, and then he smiled. 

It was tinged with years of his own grief and anger, but Derek _got_ it, so he didn’t try to hide it.

“I get that.” Stiles said. “After my mom— it’s so,” He bit his lip and let out a humourless laugh. “So fucking stupid now, but I used to sneak outside and sleep in the backseat of her car— of the jeep. It was _her_ car before it was mine, and I’d carry the keys to school and stuff before I even had my permit. Like, I can’t really explain what that jeep means to me, and I know it’s gonna be a lost cause eventually. _Soon_ probably.” The thought of it literally brought tears to his eyes. He took a breath, tapped his fingers on his leg. Derek was looking at him, _intensely,_ and Stiles suddenly felt very vulnerable. Derek _always_ pulled this shit, making Stiles open up and cry and shit. 

Stiles glared and rolled his shoulders, forcing his voice to come out strong and unwavering. 

“And _then_ I’ll buy a shiny black Camaro to make up for years of panic attacks and crippling anxiety that have _nothing_ to do with my dead mother.”

“Right.” Derek drawled. “Because that’s not something that’s defined you _at all.”_ And Stiles grinned at him because there was something about both having dead parents that made it okay to joke about. 

“Not even a little bit.” He sniffed and lifted his chin, and then changed the subject. “Dude, let me get your number.” He said, hopefully casually, holding out his hand for Derek’s phone. “I realized the other day I have no way to contact you.” Derek handed his phone over and watched as Stiles punched in his information. 

They were back on campus now, nearly right in front of Derek’s dorm. 

“Are you going out tomorrow night?” Stiles asked suddenly. “Lydia got invited to a frat party at Cornell and I am legally obligated to accompany her. Maybe I’ll see you?” Derek shrugged. 

“It’s definitely a possibility.” He said. Although he normally wouldn’t be caught dead at something like that, _now_ he had a reason to go, and Erica would probably jump at the chance. 

“Sweet. Hope I do.” Stiles handed him back his phone and flashed him a grin, and then he was turning away. 

He split off with Scott before Derek had a chance to say anything else, but Stiles threw a casual, “later dude,” over his shoulder as he left, and then clapped Isaac on the shoulder before they walked away and disappeared into the darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good God Damn is a song by the Arcade Fire. Worth a listennn imo
> 
> My [Tumblr](https://brillinski.tumblr.com/) (:


	9. Wasteland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this chapter is a little dark? I think? There’s some talk about harder drug use and Stiles is kind of a mess. I don’t think it’s super depressing and fucked up or anything but just a heads up if drug use is something that bothers you. Additionally there’s a discussion about sexual assault but nothing explicit happens. 
> 
> Next chapter should be happier??? I feel like this was kinda necessary but I’m sorry it’s a bit intense lol.  
> Thank you for reading! Comments are soft serve ice cream and cancelled finals (:

Derek had been looking for Stiles since he had arrived, but he hadn’t been prepared for… this. 

When he finally saw him, stumbling and sweaty, wearing dark jeans and a T-shirt that was _way_ too small, he didn’t know whether to be thrilled or apprehensive, because he could immediately tell that Stiles was completely out of it.

When Stiles spotted him, he flashed him the biggest, sloppiest grin and practically flung himself into Derek’s arms, giving him a tight hug. 

“Thank _god.”_ He breathed into his ear. “I’ve been _looking for you.”_ Derek was frozen to the spot. Stiles was clearly shitfaced and _alone,_ and Derek was definitely not imagining the looks he was getting.

“Where’s Scott?” He asked.

“Scott?” Stiles pulled away and glanced over his shoulder as if expecting to see him there. “He left this morning.” Derek scowled and lifted his eyebrows.

He knew he was kind of glaring at Stiles, but the idea of him stumbling around completely plastered at this party for the past hour set his teeth on edge. 

“Are you trying to scare me off?” Stiles asked after a moment of intense eye contact. “Because all that heavy breathing and angry glaring really just makes me wanna drop to my knees and—”

“Stop.” Derek cut him off with a growl, and Stiles shut his mouth immediately, lifting his chin and meeting Derek’s gaze. Derek wondered if it would be worth it, to just take what Stiles was clearly offering, but then be forced to act like it didn’t mean more to him than it did. Would getting that close be worth it if he just wound up feeling horrible after the fact? Clearly he was incapable of learning from his mistakes, and for a moment he could hear Kate’s voice in his head, taunting him.

There was something dark behind Stiles’ eyes, something so drastically different than the light he had seen there the night before. His pupils were blown wide, dark circles stretching to the edge of his iris, and he looked desperate and furious, maybe a little broken. They stood there for a moment, staring at each other, before the corners of Stiles mouth pulled into a little smirk and he rolled his eyes. 

“Alright, Derek.” He said, sarcasm thick on his voice, like he knew Derek was twisted up and confused and just as angry as he looked. Like he knew _exactly_ how Derek was feeling, and he was enjoying it. _Bastard._

Being near Stiles like this put Derek on edge. Like his skin was too tight on his body. Like he was standing too close to a speaker at a show or something. His ears were ringing. 

Stiles quirked his eyebrow. 

“C’mon sourpus, you want a drink?” 

Derek let Stiles grab his wrist and lead him to the kitchen.

  
  


***

An hour and a half later and Derek was starting to panic because he had no idea how to deal with this, and those were definitely cop lights flashing from down the street. There were still people milling around the outside of the house. Some people were dashing towards the woods, while others casually waited for ubers. Nobody paid any attention to Derek or Stiles.

Stiles’ head was in his hands and he didn’t look up when Derek said his name. 

“M’fine. Jus’ leave me.” His voice was muffled by his hands and the thickness of his throat.

“Stiles, the fucking cops are here man.” Derek tried, pulling on the other kid's arm out of desperation. “We have to go, like— _now._ ” But Stiles didn’t budge. Derek blew out a breath of air. “Seriously, I don’t know what you took, but _you’re going to get arrested_ if you don’t get the fuck up.” Stiles did finally lift his head at that. His eyes were completely bloodshot, and he looked delirious. He flashed Derek a grin that was more than a little terrifying.

“Don’ y’think I fucking—” 

“Hey!” Annnd that was a fucking police officer walking towards them. All of a sudden Derek was furious.

“You’re the most self destructive person I’ve ever fucking met, you know that?” He hissed at Stiles under his breath. But Stiles wasn’t paying attention and he had already put his head back in his hands. The cop was right fucking there now, and Derek stepped forward without thinking. 

“There was a noise complaint. Is he okay?” The guy was young, and he definitely looked suspicious, but also maybe a little concerned. 

“Uh. He—” Derek could feel his heart pounding in his chest and he idly wondered if the cop could _hear_ it. “Someone slipped him something.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. He didn’t dare look in Stiles’ direction. “We were at a party over at Cornell and I wandered off for two seconds and there was this _guy.”_ Derek’s panic seemed to be selling the story, because the cop definitely looked more concerned than angry now. “He’s my boyfriend.” Derek added, and then kicked himself because _what,_ that wasn’t even necessary. 

He desperately hoped Stiles wouldn’t remember any of this. 

“Hey, kid.” The cop said, this time directed at Stiles. Stiles lifted his head a little, his neck lolling a bit to one side. “He your boyfriend?” And Stiles was smiling that creepy strung out smile and nodding. 

“Mmm.” 

The cop frowned.

“He needs to go to a hospital.” _Fuck. Fuck fuck._ Derek hadn’t thought of that. Was he going to call an ambulance? There was no way Stiles could afford that, and Derek doubted he’d be able to convince him to let him cover it. 

Suddenly, and seemingly out of nowhere, a blood curdling scream sounded from the other side of the house, and the cop was spinning around. 

“Don’t move.” He said to them, before taking off towards the noise. 

Time slowed down, and before Derek’s brain caught up he was tearing Stiles up from the ground and pulling his arm over his shoulder. 

“C’mon, c’mon. _Fuck_ you.” He practically dragged Stiles away from the house and into the woods, while Stiles nuzzled into his neck and tripped over his feet. 

Once Derek decided they were a safe distance, he called Isaac. 

“Hey man, I need a favor.” He was answered with a loud groan.

“Jesus, Derek. Do you know what fucking time it is?” Derek pulled his phone from his ear to check. 3:24 AM, great. 

“Yeah— yeah. I’m sorry. But we seriously need a ride. Stiles is…” He looked down at Stiles, who was still leaning on Derek to keep himself upright. His face was completely blank. “I don’t know. He took something, or someone slipped him something. He’s pretty fucked up. We definitely won’t be able to walk back to campus.” 

“Call a fucking Uber or something.” But Derek could hear him climbing out of bed in the background. “Where are you?” 

“Meet us at the corner of Dryden.” Isaac hung up without saying anything else. 

  
  


***

When Stiles woke up he had no idea where he was, which was generally a pretty unpleasant feeling. He was fully clothed, which he was grateful for even though he was still wearing tight jeans that were digging into every inch of his legs uncomfortably. He groaned and rolled over, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand and trying to get a feel for where he was. 

He felt _heavy,_ slow, and when he racked his memory for any clue for how he had gotten there he came up short. 

He was definitely in a dorm room, probably on Ithaca’s campus, thank god. The bed on the opposite side of the room was empty, without sheets or any sign that there was someone else living there, and there was nobody in the room with him. Sitting up made him nauseous so he flopped back down, running his hands up and down the bed in search of his phone. Before he could find it the door was swinging open, and he flailed for a moment before realizing that Derek was standing on the other side of it. 

“Oh.” He said, and then flashed him a shaky smile. “Hey handsome. This your bed?” And then Derek was _blushing_ which was a look Stiles had not yet seen on Derek. He hated himself for pushing, because what the fuck was he supposed to do now? With him in Derek’s bed and Derek standing there looking at him like _that;_ all pink cheeks and wide eyes. 

He was going to be so pissed off if they’d finally hooked up and he couldn’t even remember it.

“You slept for fifteen hours.” Derek said gruffly, and then Stiles really was panicking because _fifteen hours_ was way too long and Lydia was definitely furious at him. 

“Mother _fuck_. I have to call Lydia.” 

“Don’t worry. I talked to her.” Stiles blinked. _What?_

“What?” He said out loud, and Derek finally cracked a smile, but it was tired and maybe a little angry. 

“She kinda saved your ass last night. Don’t know how much you remember… but she distracted this cop who was definitely about to stick you with an ambulance fine.” 

“Ahhh.” Stiles twisted the sheets around in his hands, not making eye contact. “How did I get here? ...Did you and me, like, y’know?” He wondered if he looked hopeful as he raised his eyes to meet Derek’s. He wondered if he _was_ hopeful, but he was far too delirious to unpack that one right now. He lifted his eyebrow at Derek’s stunned expression.

“You’re asking if I raped you?” He sounded surprised.

“What!? No. I’m asking if we, like, hooked up. I don’t really remember anything.” 

“Stiles, you were barely conscious.” He snapped. Stiles shrugged, which clearly pissed Derek off even more because he scoffed and turned away. 

“What happened last night?” Stiles asked. Derek stayed silent, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion or concern or maybe just irritation. “I can’t remember anything after..” 

“After what?” 

“I don’t know. It’s all so fuzzy.” Derek nodded.

“I was worried about you.” Stiles actually grinned at that, sitting up straighter in the bed and feeling more alert than he had since he’d woken up. He didn’t even want to know what Derek saw last night. This whole semester, he’d been trying so hard to come across like he had his shit together, but that ship had clearly sailed.

“You shouldn’t be.” He said, still smiling. “I’m good, dude. Actually— I feel _great.”_ He lied. “Whatever I took definitely was more rejuvenating than anything else. _Actually,_ I’d love to smoke. Do you wanna... smoke?” He bit his lip. _Fuck_ he needed his Adderall. It had been too many days without it at this point. 

“Whatever you took?” Derek scowled, and Stiles shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

“Yeah, I mean. I’m pretty sure it was Xanax, but I probably shouldn’t have taken a full bar and like, I’m sure the drinking didn’t help.” Derek rolled his eyes. 

“You were a mess.” He said, his tone sharper than Stiles had ever heard it. “You could’ve been _arrested,_ or— I mean, _anything_ could’ve happened. And asking if we’d hooked up? As if that would’ve just been _okay_ with you, to wake up and not even _remember.”_ He clamped his lips shut, glaring out the window. “You should be more careful.” 

Stiles tried not to feel annoyed, because he knew Derek was right.

“I’m sorry.” He said, although he didn’t know which part he was sorry about. He really just wanted to _stop_ talking about this and possibly forget it had ever happened. Derek stared him down for a moment before shrugging and turning away. 

“You should shower.” He finally said, wrinkling his nose a little in a way that was entirely too adorable and the possibility of a _shower_ was too good to turn down.

  
  


***

A few hours later, Stiles was showered and in clean clothes.

He and Derek were sitting out the back of Stiles’ jeep, passing a joint between them. The sun was out, and Derek had turned his face to it.

“Are you happy?” He asked suddenly, bluntly. He was looking at Stiles in that omniscient way that he couldn’t decide if he loved or hated. Stiles gave him his best sexy smirk and turned to wrap his fingers around his upper arm. For a moment he was distracted by the sheer size of it. Derek was fucking muscular. 

“Can’t complain.” He said eventually, really hamming it up and batting his eyelashes a little. Derek shook him off with a little more force than necessary.

“Stop. Just stop. Just— be real for a second.” Stiles frowned, withdrawing his arm.

“What do you want me to say, Derek? I mean— I _try_ to be.” 

“But you’re not.” 

“I don’t know! Are _you?”_ He was annoyed, far more frustrated than the situation warranted, and he snatched the joint out of Derek’s hand before hopping down onto the concrete and beginning to pace back and forth. “What kind of fucking question is that anyway? I’m not your damn girlfriend, maybe you should be asking _her_ that.” He turned away, aggressively blowing out smoke and glaring at a group of girls getting into a blue Honda a few spots away. 

When Stiles turned back around Derek was running his hands through his hair in a way that Stiles found completely irresistible. He looked distraught, maybe a little confused, and Stiles suddenly felt like the biggest asshole. He fought the urge to apologize, without really knowing why. It wasn’t Derek’s _fault_ he was straight. Stiles shouldn’t blame him for that, but it was getting harder and harder to hang out with him and not imagine him naked, pinning him down, kissing his neck. 

Stiles groaned. 

When Derek looked up and met Stiles eyes, there was fire behind them.

“It’s not a fucking come on, _Stiles.”_ He snapped. “Believe it or not some of us are capable of caring about people without an ulterior motive.” He rolled his eyes and Stiles was already overwhelmed by this. His hangover was pounding at his head and making his stomach churn.

He felt stretched thin, pushed to his limit. He didn’t know how to do whatever the fuck _this_ was. He ran a hand over his face, hoping Derek wouldn’t notice that he was wiping tears from his eyes. 

This sucked so badly. 

He glared back at Derek, struggling to find the words, desperate to make it right but not sure how to do that without giving himself away. 

“I care about you.” He finally said, sniffing and scratching at the side of his nose. “I just— This is hard for me. You get that, right?” 

“What, being a decent fucking person is hard for you?” Derek snapped. Stiles stilled. _What the fuck?_

“That’s not fair.” He grumbled. Derek shrugged, grimacing, but he didn’t apologize. And Stiles really needed to be anywhere but there before he broke down like a fucking child. He’d done that thing again, where he assumed everything was fine only to find out he’d been unaware that everyone was frustrated with him. Frustrated that he couldn’t just get his shit together or let them in _._ For once Stiles was furious with himself too. 

“I’m sorry.” He said brokenly, ruffling nervously at his hair. He held the joint out for Derek to take but dropped his arm back to his side when Derek gave no acknowledgement that he’d seen him. 

“You shouldn’t treat everything like a joke.” Derek muttered, looking a little guilty. “I mean— it’s like you don’t even _care_ what happens to you. Not everything’s a fucking game, alright?” Stiles watched Derek’s face carefully, trying to figure out where this was coming from and where exactly he’d gone wrong, because it seemed a lot heavier than just dodging his stupid question. 

_Are you happy?_

What the fuck does that even mean? 

Derek stood up. 

“I’m sorry Stiles.” He mumbled, but he wouldn’t meet Stiles’ eyes. “I’ll see you.” And then he was walking away.

Stiles stared at his retreating back, fighting back frustrated tears and hating himself for not chasing after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’M SORRY. I really don’t want them to suffer, this is just what happened when I wrote this??? Haven’t finished the next chapter but things will definitely be looking up. 
> 
> Wasteland is a song by Tierra Whack.  
> My [Tumblr](https://brillinski.tumblr.com/) (;


	10. God is Fair, Sexy, Nasty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn hi I’ve been getting distracted working on some other things (and playing the new last of us game holy fucking shit), but finally here is the next chapter. It’s pretty short but hopefully ya’ll enjoy it anywaaaays. Thank you for reading (:

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Erica asked, slamming the door to Derek’s room and strutting in, uninvited. “I haven’t seen you all week, but I can see you on fucking Spotify listening to  _ Father John Misty _ at all hours of the day!” She sat down on his bed with a bounce, inches away from his knee, and Derek shifted up onto his elbows, glaring at her. 

“Get out.” He growled. She ignored him. 

“That’s like, not a good sign, Der.” She narrowed her eyes as she took in his appearance. “You’re a fucking wreck, when’s the last time you  _ showered. _ Christ. Take a fucking shower.” She looked genuinely disgusted. He groaned and buried his face into his pillow. 

“Fucking  _ get out, _ Erica.” 

“You never answer my texts.” She said, and she was clearly trying to sound mad but Derek could hear genuine sadness in her voice so he sat up fully and met her eyes.

“Erica. I’m fine. I’m just… recalibrating. Or something.” He ran a hand over his face. “Just stressed I guess.”

And he  _ was _ stressed. He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. Suddenly he was unsure about everything. He hadn’t spoken to Stiles all week and he couldn’t stop wondering if their brief and slightly complicated friendship was just… over now. He’d been avoiding Jennifer like the plague and skipping classes whenever he could. He felt restless and uneasy, as though he were constantly waiting for something that never came. 

He reached for his phone to check the time, while Erica just stared at him with narrowed eyes. 

“You know.” She started, leaning in closer to him. “Jennifer’s been asking about you. She came up to  _ me _ at Terraces to ask if I’d seen you.  _ Me, _ Der. She fucking hates me.” Derek sighed, blinked at her, and said nothing. Erica glared up at the ceiling as she stood up. “Fine. Be a fucking dick. Boyd and Isaac are worried too, but I’ll tell them not to be. I’ll tell them you’re perfectly fine! Just ‘recalibrating’ by neglecting your hygiene and your friends and wallowing in your own filth.” She flashed him a sardonic smile. 

“Erica.” Derek said, but then had nothing to add to it. She stared him down for a minute, and then turned to leave. 

“Call me if you need me!” She crowed, faux cheerful as she exited the room as briskly as she had entered. 

For a moment, Derek just stared at the door, the sound of it slamming shut behind her ringing in his ears. Then, he rolled out of bed and onto his feet, shoved his feet into his slides, and went to take a shower. 

***

Derek entered the library with the intent to print his paper and get out. 

It was raining, so he had his hood pulled up over his earbuds and he was mostly checked out from the world around him, until he looked across the library and saw Stiles. He was sitting at a table in the corner of the room, chewing on the end of his pen with his face screwed up in concentration as he stared at his laptop. He looked fucking beautiful.

Derek thought he’d had a strong reaction to the kid before, but seeing him out of the blue, after two weeks of doing nothing but obsessing and overthinking, it was like something inside of him broke. 

One moment, he was standing by the printer, waiting for the ancient machine to finish spitting out the pages he had written on Latin American politics, and the next, he was halfway across the room.

When Stiles glanced up and spotted Derek making his way towards his table, he froze for a second. The pen he was chewing on fell from his mouth and clattered onto the table, and then, without a word being exchanged between them, he slammed his computer shut and shoved it into his bag, before practically leaping across the table and racing towards the exit. 

“Stiles.” Derek called as he breezed by, turning to try and catch his arm but missing by an inch. “Damnit,  _ Stiles!”  _ Derek took off after him but Stiles ignored him. His footsteps were heavy and determined as he went straight for the door and flung himself out into the rain without any hesitation.

“Stiles!” Derek called after him again but Stiles continued to ignore him, dashing in front of a car to cross the parking lot and make it to his Jeep as quickly as possible. Derek glared at his back. “Are you fucking kidding me?” 

Derek probably wouldn’t have caught up but Stiles fumbled with his keys for too long and Derek was suddenly so  _ angry  _ that when he made it to the Jeep he shoved Stiles up against it and pinned him there. 

“I can’t fucking stand you.” He growled, and then, somehow, he was kissing him. 

It was a hard kiss, more than a little forceful, and Derek didn’t give Stiles time to reciprocate before he was pulling away, breathing heavily. He immediately panicked, thinking about what he had just done. He’d virtually chased Stiles out of the library, before throwing him against his car and kissing him when  _ clearly _ Stiles had been trying to avoid any and all interaction with Derek. He was about to stammer out an apology when a slow smile spread across Stiles’ face. 

“Oh really?” He asked, smirking. “You can’t fucking stand me, huh?” Stiles’ smile turned soft, and he blinked, once, twice, and then licked his lips. Derek was entranced. Stiles smiled a little, almost to himself, and then surged up to connect their lips again. This time was soft, but somehow still heated. It was exactly what Derek imagined kissing Stiles would be, only, multiplied by one hundred. His lips were warm and soft and his tongue expertly pushed into his mouth with absolutely no resistance from Derek. He pulled back when Derek moaned into his mouth.

“Christ.” Stiles muttered, looking at Derek like he’d never seen him before. Like nothing else mattered. “I thought I’d fucked everything up.” He whispered, so low Derek almost missed it. He shook his head quickly. 

“I’m sorry I freaked out. I was— I was out of line.” He tried to smile, but he wanted to kiss him again. They were standing in the fucking rain staring at each other, and all he wanted to do was climb into Stiles’ jeep and just soak in his energy. Just be in his presence and listen to his voice. Stiles smiled up at him, shrugged his shoulders, and closed the distance between them again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case there's any confusion- I've changed my username to match my tumblr url
> 
> Chapter title is a Mac Miller song


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